Smile and put on a happy face
by gwynplaine89
Summary: Arthur Fleck is a lonely clown who lives his life between punches and failure. Maybe there is only one thing that can change his tragic destiny.
1. A chronic underachiever

**A chronic underachiever**

The bus is full. Seems like I will have to stand this time. No, wait. There's a free spot in the back. I drop myself on the last seat. I'm still in pain due to the beating I took this morning. Some kids assaulted me outside the music shop. They stole the sign from my hands and ran away. I followed them but they ambushed me in an alley, beat me down and hit me. There were five of them. I know the broken sign will be deducted from my paycheck. And there's not much one can deduct from that salary anyway...

The way home is long. All days resemble each other. Always the same route, the same streets, the same lights, the same people. But sometimes, and only sometimes, there's something different, something that catches my attention. A little boy. In the front seat. He turns around and watches me with curiosity. He seems to be very interested in me. He's the only one in this bus for whom I'm not invisible.

I had washed my face earlier and removed all the clown make up, but it doesn't matter. Kids, unlike adults, posess fantasy. Just by making some funny faces the boy is already laughing. Suddenly, his mother turns around and looks at me in anger.

\- Stop bothering my child!

\- I wasn't bothering him...I'm sorry...

I was just trying to make him laugh. People always seem to be upset...

And suddenly I feel laughter crawling up my throat. Oh no...please no, not now.

\- HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA

The woman turns around again.

\- WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT?!

\- HAHHAHHAHAH no...no HAHAHHAH. I'm not...I'm not laughing. HAHAHAHHA. I'm s-sorry. HAHAHAHHA.

I need air. My throat hurts. I can't speak. My hand reaches to my pocket, I grab one of my "presentation cards" and hand it to her. Normal people always carry those with them. They say things like "LAWYER", "DOCTOR" or "CEO". Mine is a bit different.

_**"Excuse me if I laugh. I'm sick. My laughter is involuntary.**_  
_**Please kindly return this card"**_

The woman reads it, looks at me with mistrust and hands me back the card. My laughter slowly calms down, but I've already made her uncomfortable. Her and everyone else here. I feel all those eyes on me. There's still two stops before home but as soon as the bus halts, I get off. I sit down on a bench at the stop and wait for the next bus.

A man approaches and sits down beside me. He carries a newspaper and begins to read. Thomas Wayne, who is running for mayor of Gotham, is on the cover. I laugh a bit upon seeing him because I remember that my mom has a weird obsession with mailing him letters. And then my laughter gets out of control.

\- HAHAHHAHAHHAAAA

I cover my mouth with one hand to smother the laughter. But I can't.

\- What's wrong with you?- he says, visibly annoyed.

I

just shake my head no. I try to say something but again I fail. My laughter only gets worse and louder by the minute.

\- HAHHAHAHAHAHA

\- WHAT'S SO FUNNY, ASSHOLE?- the man yells, throwing aside the paper.

Again I reach for my card and hand it to him. The man reads it. Now he is the one who laughs.

\- You're sick? Hahhahaha.

\- Yes, Sir...

\- Really? You poor thing... HAHAHHAHA YOU THINK I'M STUPID OR WHAT?- he yells.

\- N-no! I...

The man tears the card into pieces.

\- No! Please...I need it!

It was the last one I had left over.

\- Fucking freak!- he says and throws the pieces of paper in my face.

Great, in just one day I managed to get myself beaten up, have some deducted from my paycheck, and my last card torn. My life is such a success.

People are not only impatient... sometimes they are cruel just for the sake of it.

I let the next bus pass me by. Despite the fact that it's gotten dark and it's winter, I think I prefer to walk today. The cold of men is worse than the cold of the night. It's a voluntary cold.


	2. Penny and Murray

**Penny and Murray**

To get home it's necessary to climb a set of never ending stairs. It's something I'm used to, but every step hurts due to the punches and it takes me twice as long to get to the top. From here, I continue to the right for two more blocks. The wind blows intensely and I fold my arms over my chest to protect myself from the cold because my yellow sweater doesn't keep me warm enough.

It's hard to make way through the garbage that threatens to bury all of Gotham. The rats, on the other hand, are something one gets used to after a while. Personally, I don't mind them. I think they suffer the same luck we do. They just wander around desperately in search of a bit of food and shelter.

The building where I live is a damn horrible shack. It's old, collapsed and it sucks. Inside are at least two hundred appartments where people live cramped together like sardines. Mine is number 8A. There's barely enough space to fit in my mom and me. But, in spite of it all, it's the only good moment of my day when I get here, home.

\- Happy, you're late! What happened?

Happy...that's what my mom calls me. It's ironic...Mom never leaves the house, her health is very fragile and she needs my help for almost everything. She can no longer work. Her name is Penny. I always prepare dinner and take it to bed for her. There's only one bed. Sometimes we share it and sometimes I sleep on the couch in the living room.

\- I missed the last bus...- I explain while I take off my shoes and warm her a bowl of soup.

\- Come quickly! The show is about to begin!

Every night before going to bed, we watch Murray's show. It's the best part of my day.

Murray is not just a comedian, he's the best comedian there is. He is everything I dream to be one day. When I watch his show, I often imagine that I'm there, that Murray invites me, that I tell hilarious jokes, that people applaud me and I make them laugh. Mom says that my purpose in life is to spread joy and laughter. It's something I take very serious. Mom and Murray are all I have, they are my company every night when I get home.

\- Will you not eat, son?

\- I'm not hungry.

\- But look how skinny you are...eat a little, yes?

\- Don't worry, mom...I'm fine.

After the show mom goes to sleep. I stay up for a little longer. I light a cigarette and take off my shirt. In days like these, I'm careful not to do it in front of mom, so that she doesn't see the bruises on my body or how terribly skinny I am. She doesn't need to know that people hurt me in the streets or that a clown's salary doesn't buy enough food for the two of us.

I try to write my diary, just like my therapist said. It's mostly lose thoughts, insignificant stuff that comes to my mind during the day. I don't wish to see anyone and at yet I need someone to speak with...and I solve the problem by talking to the paper. That said, it's not always easy to write down my thoughts because words have limits and thoughts don't have them.

For today I write a single line:

_**There is a certain amount of punishment in the mere fact of existing. **_

I am a clown, and to complete myself, or perhaps to complicate myself, I am also a dancer. Sometimes I start dancing in the dark, alone with the street lights peeking through the window. I don't need music, one carries music on the inside. I always picture an audience that admires me and says "Arthur, you're such a great dancer!"

-"Thanks!"- I reply and wave to my public.

How amazing it would be to be like Murray and fascinate the crowds every night. How awesome it would be to feel the sincere appreciation of the people. Their respect, their admiration, their love...How great it would be, even for just one day, to belong to the world of the happy.


	3. The man who laughs

**The man who laughs**

My name is Arthur, not sure if I already mentioned that. But throughout the day I get called many different names and in the end I don't even know who I am anymore. To mom I am "Happy", to my fellow clowns at Ha Ha I'm Arthur or "Art". To everyone else I'm "freak", "idiot", "douche" and all its derivatives.  
And well, there's also the stage name that I have yet to find for when I become a famous comedian. I'm still thinking of an appropriate one...

After the incident the other day Hoyt, our boss, took me off the music shop. Apparently the owner complained about the broken sign. After taking a hundred dollars from my paycheck for that, I was assigned to a new work place. It's a shoe store that, just like the music shop, needs to liquidate all its inventory before going out of business. Everybody is broke these days...

\- If you break or lose or steal another sign, I will have to fire you, Arthur.- warns the boss before heading out.

\- But, Sir, I already told you I was jumped.

\- Why the fuck would someone want a clown's sign? It makes no sense!

\- I don't know either...but that's what happened.

\- Whatever, I don't want any more complaints from our clients. Now move your ass and get to work!

The morning passes calmly. I hold a sign, twist and turn it, I dance and wave to the people that walk by. Many approach the store and I see them coming out with bags and boxes of shoes. Sometimes small children greet me. I like them. They're the only ones to whom we clowns are worthy of admiration.

I normally work until 5:00 in the afternoon. But it's only 2:00 o'clock and there's nothing more to sell. The owner of the shop approaches me.

\- You're a nice guy...you helped me sell it all in just one day!

Nice? Nobody has ever referred to me in those terms.

\- What's your name?

\- Arthur.

\- Arthur! Here, have a tip. Eat something and go home early. There's nothing more to do here.

Wow, it's the first time I get a tip. I'll buy a piece of cake for mom! Seems like today will be a good day after all.

I'm very hungry, so I decide to eat something before I go home. I walk to a nearby store and buy a small sandwich. The cashier looks at me awkwardly. I imagine he doesn't see clowns shopping at his place too often.

There's a little square around the corner. I look for a free bench and sit down to eat. Days in Gotham are usually very dark and today is not the exception. But still there are lots of people around. I distract myself watching them walk by. Men, women, children, older people, even some dogs. Most of them seem to be in a hurry, a few others seem to be lost, wandering aimlessly.

Suddenly a fight breaks out between a group of young men. I don't know what the problem is. I stop eating and observe the scene developing a few feet away from me. And then one of them notices me.

\- Hey you! Clown! What the fuck are you looking at, huh?

Oh no.

He walks over. Here we go again...

\- Are you deaf? I said what the fuck are you looking at?

\- Nothing, nothing.- I say.

And a damn laughing fit befalls me again. It catches the attention of the rest of the group. They seem to have forgotten thay they were fighting and now all are focused on me.

My laughter enrages them even more. One takes the rest of the sandwich from my hand and tosses it to the floor. He grabs my shirt collar.

\- What's so funny, little clown? And why the fuck do you dress up like this, idiot?!

\- It's - it's my job...HAHAHAHAH- I respond between the laughter.

They laugh, too. Two of them grab me by the arms and a third one punches me in the stomach.

\- Stop, please! HELP!- I scream to the people passing by. But nobody comes to my aid.

When they finally get bored of beating me and drop me on the bench, one of them takes my green wig and the other my clown's nose.

I run after them but I trip over my own clown shoes which are too big for my feet and I fall to the ground.

\- Help!- I yell - Please, someone stop them!-

But nobody hears me...nobody cares.

\- HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA

Anyone would think I'm laughing, but no, I'm crying. If someone looked at me closely, they'd realize. My sobs disguise between my laughter and the tears stream down my face, ruining my make up.

I feel so helpless, frustrated...in pain.

Why do they beat me? I don't hurt anyone. Why do they take my things from me? Of what use are a wig and a clown nose to them? What world do we live in, where people no longer rob for need but for fun?

People who pass near me and see me on the floor simply walk by or look the other way.

Do you see why I prefer the rats?

I slowly pick myself up and walk back to Ha Ha. None of the other guys are here at this time. I wash my face to remove the make up and change into my normal clothes. Hoyt doesn't even hear me come in, he's busy on the phone.

On my way home I pass near the bakery but I only look from the outside. The money from the tip I will have to use to replace my work tools... sorry, mom.

The elevator in my building is, just like everything else there, a damn disaster. I enter and hit button number 8 ten times until the door closes.

\- Wait!- calls someone and I hear hurried steps.

I stop the door with my foot and it opens again. And then I see her. I don't know her name but I've seen her before. She is pretty. Her skin is brown and she always wears a colorful strip to hold her curly hair.

\- Thanks!- she says, but she doesn't look at me.

She holds a little girl by the hand. I hadn't seen her before. Perhaps because I usually don't come home at this time of the day. She's probably five years old.

The girl looks at me in awe. She steps closer to her mother and pulls softly at her skirt to catch her attention.

\- Mom, mom, it's him!- she says excitedly - It's the man who laughs!-

Upon hearing that I can't help but smiling. It's the name. I think I like this name better than any other I have been called so far because it's the one that describes me the best.

\- Stop it, Gigi.- she replies without paying her any attention.

\- But it's true, mom. He lives next door and I can hear him laugh from my room.

The mother looks at me awkwardly and scolds the little girl.

\- Shut up, Gigi!

\- Sorry...- she says to me, appologizing for the girl's words. But I don't mind them at all.

\- It's alright.- I assure her and smile to Gigi.

\- She's right.- I say - I always laugh! HAHAHA-

The elevator opens and the mother hurries out, pulling her daughter behind her. In the alley the girl turns towards me one more time.

\- Bye!- she says and waves.

Her mother drags her by the hand and hurries inside her appartment, number 8B, closing the door quickly.

\- Bye...- I say but Gigi can't hear me anymore.

Most people feel uncomfortable around me. Others feel upset and other scared. But I don't wish to make anyone uncomfortable, upset or scared. It's this infernal laughter that alienates me away from people...that doesn't allow me to have a friend.

There is a mask between myself and the rest of people. There is a wall between society and my mind. 


	4. Knock knock

**Knock knock**

To live one day at a time. I try to practice that philosophy. Work at the shoe store is over, everything has been sold. It's a pity because the owner was nice to me. I don't know where Hoyt will send me next. But for now I have to go to my weekly session with the social worker.

\- How have you been, Arthur?

\- ...

\- Arthur...

\- Same as always...

\- How's your job?

\- I was beaten again...twice this week...

\- How do you feel?

\- How would you feel?

\- ...

I light a cigarette.

\- Arthur, does it help you to have someone to talk to?

\- I don't know...

\- Have you been writing your diary?

\- Yes.

\- Did you bring it with you?

I hand her my notebook.

\- I wrote down a few jokes, too...

She opens it and runs through the last pages.

\- Have you been having any negative thoughts?

\- ...

I light another cigarette.

\- Arthur...

\- You don't listen do you? You ask the same questions every week. How is your job? Are you having any negative thoughts? All I have are negative thoughts.

\- You write here that you feel your life is a punishment.

\- No, I did not write that. What I wrote is that there's a certain amount of punishment in the mere fact of existing. That's different.

\- Talk to me about that.

\- What's there to explain? I get humilliated and beaten every day. I dream about being a comedian but I feel that I don't even exist, that to 90% of people I'm invisible and to the other 10% I'm a punching bag. I don't have a single friend. And the only thing that makes it all bearable are the pills you prescribe me.

\- Tell me one of your jokes- she says then, handing me back my notebook.

I turn a few pages until I find something.

\- Here is one:

**_\- Doctor, how did the surgery go?_**  
_**\- Surgery? Was it not an autopsy? HAHAHAHAH**_

\- Your humor is quite dark, Arthur. Why don't you try to write a different type of jokes? In our next session you'll tell me something good. A positive thought or a positive joke. Agreed?

\- I'll have to use all of my fantasy...

At home mom awaits me as usual. We watch Murray's show and then I help her to bathe.

\- Happy, I need you to mail another letter for me tomorrow, ok?

\- Did you write to Thomas Wayne again, mom? It's the fifth time...hahhahaha what's there to tell him?

\- He will help us. I already told you that I worked at his house and he says that workers are like family.

-But mom, that was like thirty years ago. I doubt that he even remembers you. Besides...he has other things in his mind.

Thomas Wayne lives in a mansion, sorrounded by luxury...he's probably the most powerful man in town. Someone like that doesn't worry about small people. The priviledged have no ears for the forsaken.

But nontheless, I promise mom to send her letter. She goes to sleep. I light a cigarette and sit at the table in the living room. I open my notebook to write down my impressions of the day.

_**We commit the stupidity of continuing to live, wasting**_**_ every day the magnificent _**_**opportunities that are offered to us by diverse bridges, pills and razor blades. **_

Knock knock...

Hahhahaha, many of my jokes start with a knock knock.

Knock knock...

I realize that I didn't just imagine that, there's really a knock knock on the door. Who can it be, though?

I get up, cross the living room and open the door. There's no one there. I look to left and right, but there's nobody across the hall. Then I look down and there I see it. Somebody left something on my doorstep. I crouch down and pick up a sheet of paper. There's a drawing, a drawing of a clown, made with color pencils by the hands of a child.

I close the door behind me. I contemplate the drawing for several minutes and hug it to my chest. I smile. Someone thought of me.

The next day Hoyt assigns me to my new job. It's at the shopping center. It's easy, I just have to stand at the entrance holding a bunch of colorful balloons and greet the people who enter. Today, for the first time in many years, I feel good. I look at the balloons in my hand and it gives me an idea. By the end of the afternoon I hurry to remove my make up and get changed. I put my things in my bag and run back home. As I left the mall I took one of the balloons with me, a blue one.

In front of appartment 8B, I put on my clown's nose and knock on the door.

Knock knock.

I wait for a moment.

Knock knock.

The door opens slowly. Little Gigi is surprised when she sees me.

\- Hi. My mom is in the shower...

\- That's ok. I wasn't looking for her, but for you.

I crouch down to be at Gigi's height.

\- Thank you for your drawing. It's very nice.

She laughs sheepishly.

\- Your name is Gigi, right?

\- Mhm...what is yours?

\- I'm Arthur...

\- And you're a clown, I know that. You have a green wig! I've seen you!

She has seen me? She knows that I'm a clown? That I exist? I'm touched to hear that.

I give her the balloon.

\- Here Gigi, this is for you.

\- Woooooow- she says excitedly.

She takes the balloon and watches it in awe. Then she looks at me, steps a little closer, puts her small hands on my shoulders and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

\- Thank you, Arthur!

That tender and sincere kiss from a little girl who made me a beautiful drawing...it's the most special thing that anyone could ever give to me. I feel something so extraordinary in my heart. And for the first time in my life a tear of joy escapes from my eye.

Upon seing it, Gigi's happy face turns sad. She brings her hand to my face and gently dries my cheek.

\- Don't cry Arthur.

I just smile and nod. I'm unable to form words.

In the back I can hear a shower going off.

\- I must go to bed...- says Gigi.

\- Bye Gigi...

\- Bye Arthur...


	5. A butterfly

**A butterfly**

It's hard to wake up this morning. I barely have enough strength to get out of bed. I'm not well. I feel sick. But I have to make breakfast for mom and go to work.

\- Happy, will you take my letter today?

Oh, right. I forgot.

\- Yes mom, promise.

I'm pretty sure that Wayne doesn't even receive those letters. And if he does, he doesn't even bother to open them. But this seems to be so important to mom. She gives me a goodbye kiss and I promise to mail the letter. I don't want to disappoint her. I get my bag ready with my clothes and make up, tuck the letter inside, put on a coat and leave.

I walk down the never ending stairs and start my every day road. Men seem to be governed by a strange law that makes them get up again every morning and keep on going, even when facing all adversity...as if at the end of the road a castle on a cloud awaited them.

In the subway I sit next to a man holding a newspaper. As usual these days, Thomas Wayne is on the cover.

**_"Conference of candidate Wayne at the Town Hall today" _**

This gives me an idea.

\- You laugh too much- Hoyt complains.

I was about to leave work when the boss called me to his office.

\- But I'm a clown.- I explain - Clowns are supposed to laugh, aren't they?-

\- YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!

I am polite and always speak to everyone with respect. But Hoyt seems to think that he constantly needs to yell at me.

\- I do everything the clients ask of me.

\- You stole a balloon the other day!

\- I didn't steal anything...I...what is this all about?

\- Listen, Arthur...some clients think you are weird. They feel uneasy around you.

\- ...I try to do my job the best I can...

\- Look...it's getting harder and harder for me to allocate you to a client. The thing at the mall didn't work out the way we hoped.

\- I could do children's parties.

\- Ah, for God's sake, Arthur...alright, alright...look I'll try to find you something. But if you can't control your laughing fits, everything becomes harder.

Control my laughing fits? Does Hoyt think I'm like this by choice? That I deliberately decided to have this condition?

\- I await you tomorrow. Now get out of here.

The Town Hall is not far. If I really want mom's letters to get to Wayne, I can't keep mailing them, that doesn't work. I must give it to him in person.

I sit down on a concrete bench and wait. I hold the letter firmly in my hands and stay on the lookout for any sign of Thomas Wayne. Two hours go by. Several people walk by but none of them are Wayne. The afternoon nears its end. I feel weak, I'm very cold and my sweater doesn't keep me warm enough. But I must wait, I must do it for mom. Another hour goes by and my body starts shivering with cold. I try to warm myself up rubbing my hands together. The wind hits my face and I start to cough. Then, suddenly, I see a lot of movement. A group of black cars drive in and park in a row. Several men descend, all dressed in black. And in between I recognize him, Mr. Wayne! He's sorrounded by bodyguards and a large group of journalists walk up to him. There's just s few feet between him and the entry to the Town Hall. This is my only chance. I get up and run towards him.

\- Wait! Mr. Wayne!

But with all the commotion around him, he doesn't hear me. I run faster.

\- Mr. Wa-

I trip over my own feet and I fall hard on the concrete floor. It takes me a moment to realize what happened. I lift my head, searching for Mr. Wayne and see him already entering the door, followed by his bodyguards. I lost my chance. Damn it!

I pick myself up and retrieve the letter that escaped from my hands upon falling. I feel pain in my leg. I realize I hurt my knee and my trousers are teared. I also scraped my hands as I tried to stop myself from falling. Though what hurts me the most is that I have failed mom...

There's no uglier feeling than having to return home defeated every day.

\- Happy, did you send the letter?- mom asks as soon as she hears me come in.

I head to the bedroom and greet her with a kiss.

\- Yes, mom...I left it at the post office...

Tonight I have no strength to write down my thoughts. My whole body hurts. I take a shower and drop myself on the couch in the living room where I watch TV.

Knock knock.

I recognize that soft, almost shy sound. I get up, open the door and see the only thing that could brighten my day.

\- Hi Arthur!

Her enormous eyes always shine with genuine happiness.

\- Hello Gigi- I greet. I realize she's wearing her pajamas and carries a teddy bear.

\- Why are you up so late?- I ask.

She laughs with a naughty expression.

\- Do you like cookies?- she asks.

She tucks her hand into her pocket, pulls out a chocolate cookie and offers it to me.

\- Yes, I do.

I take the cookie in my hand. A coughing fit befalls me and I cover my mouth with my elbow until it stops.

\- Are you sick?- she asks and I can see the concern on her face. Throughout the entire day, she is the first one to notice.

\- Just a little - I say to her - But with this cookie I will surely feel better!-

She looks at me with that sweet face and then her eyes stop on my hands.

\- What happened to you, Arthur?

\- Oh...I fell...

\- Does it hurt?

\- Not so much anymore...

I smile knowing that someone cares so much about me.

\- I must go to bed now...

\- That's ok. Thank you for the cookie.

\- Bye Arthur, sweet dreams!

\- Sweet dreams, Gigi.

Gigi's visits become a part of my routine. She comes at the end of every day to wish me good night before going to sleep. Sometimes she comes with a surprise and sometimes simply with a smile. I don't know to what I owe the priviledge of her visits. I just know that they do me well...they make me feel loved.

\- How have you been, Arthur?

I light the first cigarette of the session. I smile.

\- I have a friend.

The social worker looks at me in surprise.

\- Do you want to tell me about that?

\- She's the only person who sees me...

\- Who is she?

\- A little girl.

\- I understand...you say she is the only person who sees you. What do you mean by that?

\- When I look at myself in the mirror, I don't see anything but a caterpillar... but she perceives the butterfly within.


	6. Sophie

**Sophie**

There's a place called Pogo's. I like to go there after work sometimes. It's a nice place where excessive laughter is never a problem. People do stand up comedy. They stand in front of the public and tell their jokes. I always sit at a small table, one of those that have only one chair. I make sure to bring my notebook with me. I try to learn more so I can be a good comedian. For that matter, it's important to write a few things down. For example, it seems that sexual things are always funny, although I don't understand many of those jokes. I also notice that the tone in which one speaks is important, as well as the face and hand gestures. I need to work harder on my jokes and then when I'm ready, I'll present myself. I wonder what it's like to be on that stage with all those lights and all those people looking at me. I imagine their applause...their laughter...yes, it would indeed be extraordinary!

**_"I would like to be a comedian...but I'm just a clown. Big people are whatever they want to be. _**_**Small**_**_ people are whatever they can be."_**

I have two colleagues at work, Randy and Gary. Randy is huge and pretty fat. Gary, on the other hand is a dwarf. Literally. This morning each one of us is getting ready to head out to work. Randy paints his face, just like me. Gary doesn't. He doesn't need a disguise. Sometimes he uses weird hats but that's all. I like Gary. He doesn't make fun of me. Perhaps because everyone mocks him...just like they mock me.

\- Hey, Art- says Randall - I heard there were some incidents last week.-

\- Ah yes... everything is pretty crazy out there.- I say.

\- Take this. You need to defend yourself.- he tells me and hands me a small package.

\- What's this?

I carefully open it.

\- Randall...I'm not supposed to have such a thing.

How does he even think of giving me a gun?! He knows about my condition. I want to give it back but he insists I keep it.

\- Listen, keep it, Art. You pay me whenever you can.

I really don't want it but Randall walks away and leaves it to me. I put the gun in my bag with no intention of ever using it.

The therapist doesn't mind me smoking during our sessions. That's good, because otherwise it would be harder for me to talk.

\- Could you give me a new card? The last one was taken from me...

\- Yes, sure. Here you are. Keep it safe.

-...

\- You told me about a little girl in our last session. Do you want to tell me more about that?

\- Yes. Gigi. She visits me every night before she goes to bed. It's not even five minutes but it's the best part of my day. Even better than Murray's show.

\- She visits you?

\- Yes. She knocks on my door just to wish me a good night and then she leaves. Sometimes she brings me something and sometimes she asks me to tell her a joke.

\- Does her mother know about this?

\- I don't know...I rarely see her. I think she works late.

\- It's not a good idea that a grown man is visited by a little girl without her mother knowing about it. She could think you have bad intentions with her daughter.

\- What? Why would you say something so horrible?!

I'm not sure why, but I perceive something very twisted in this logic.

\- Gigi is being nice to me...I just try to be nice to her as well...I don't understand what the problem is.

\- I'm not saying you're doing something wrong, Arthur. I'm just saying it could LOOK LIKE something wrong.

\- Look like?

I don't like how that sounds...how does she tell me that?!

\- HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH

\- ...Arthur...

I smoke a cigarette to calm down.

\- HAHAHAHHAH... Don't you see what it's like out there? People just scream at each other. Nobody has ears for anybody. Nobody has time, nobody has pity...and you talk to me about what something could LOOK LIKE?

\- Arthur, listen...

\- No, no, you listen to me for once in your life! I've never hurt anybody! And yet people beat me up every single day, they mistreat me and make fun of me. That doesn't seem to bother you so much. But when a little girl has compassion for me, you tell me it's wrong that I reciprocate with a bit of affection?

\- Your intentions could be misunderstood.

\- Misunderstood? I don't get what you're trying to say...

\- You've said yourself that the world is getting crazier every time...there are bad people...

\- You don't need to remind me of that. I meet bad people every day. To everyone I'm just the same as a garbage bag, like the millions scattered around the streets. The world is deaf to me. And the only person who showed compassion for me was this little girl who felt sorry when she saw me cry. You're watching me cry right now and all you do is prescribe me another medication. Maybe if there were more people like Gigi, I wouldn't need all those pills...

My voice breaks and the sentence ends in a sob.

\- Arthur, listen, I didn't mean to upset you...

I dry my eyes with my sleeve.

\- Just give me the damn prescription please...I want to leave now.

At night I try to make some dinner for mom and myself. I'm not in a mood to write anything down in my notebook today. But it seems to be the only way of unloading my thoughts somewhere. They go back to my bag which now contains a gun.

**_"Why would Randy give me a gun?" _**

Knock knock.

I look up from my notebook. Those are not Gigi's hands. They're louder, they're adults' hands. Who can it be? I open the door.

It's her...of whom I don't even know the name...she wears a red skirt, a black shirt and a headband around her hair. She looks incredibly beautiful.

\- He- hello!

\- Hello Arthur.

Ah, she knows my name?

\- Do you have a minute? I wanted to talk to you about my daughter Gigi.

\- Ah, yes. Sure.

\- She showed me the balloon you gave her.

I remember what the therapist told me.

\- Ah yes...I...sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have, I...she made a drawing for me and left it in front of my door. I...I just wanted to give her something in return. I'm sorry...I didn't mean to bother...

\- No, no. It's fine.- she says. Her expression relaxes and she laughs a little.

\- I just wanted to meet the person about whom my daughter speaks all day.

There's curiosity in her eyes and her voice is soft.

\- Ah...well, I...my name is Arthur.

\- Yes, I know.

\- Ah yes, true...

She softly laughs. Her laughter is nice and tuneful... everything mine is not.

\- I'm Sophie.

Sophie...it's a beautiful name...Sophie...

\- Hi Sophie...

There's a brief silence and I don't know what to say.

\- Arthur, would you like a cup of tea?

\- Tea?

\- Well, if you prefer it can be coffee...

\- Oh no, I mean yes...I...

I get very nervous and dry my sweaty hands in my trouser's fabric.

\- Ehm, could you give me a minute? I'll check that my mom doesn't need anything.

\- That's ok. I'll put the kettle on... 


	7. A cup of tea

**A cup of tea**

Sophie...her name is Sophie and she's just invited me over for a cup of tea. I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I wet my hair a little and comb it back. I also put on a bit of cologne. Luckily I was not yet in my pajamas, I wouldn't want Sophie to see me like that. I'm wearing grey trousers, a white shirt and a blue sweater. I practice some gestures in front of the mirror.

\- Sophie, would you like to hear a joke?

No no no. Not like that.

\- Do you like jokes, Sophie?...

No, neither. Ah, I know.

\- Sophie...knock knock...

Ah, I don't know. I'm too nervous. Relax, Arthur, you'll do just fine.

I knock on the door of apartment 8B.

\- Come in. It's open!- says Sophie.

I carefully push the door open. Her apartment is just the same as mine but it has a feminine touch. It's surely much better arranged than mine.

\- Thought you weren't coming anymore...

\- Ah, I'm sorry, I was helping mom.

\- That's ok, have a seat, Arthur. I'll get some tea.

Sophie stands next to the kitchen and prepares two mugs. I sit down on the couch next to the small living room table.

\- Your apartment is very nice.- I tell her.

\- Hahahahah, Gigi is right, you really are funny! It's a goddamn shack!

\- Oh! I use the exact same words to describe mine!

Sophie laughs. How nice she is.

\- Is Gigi already asleep?- I ask.

\- Oh no, she's staying over at my mom's tonight.

Sophie sits on a chair next to mine and sets both mugs down on the table. Her knees can nearly touch mine.

\- Gigi says you're a clown...

\- Yes, I'm a clown. And you?

\- I'm not.

\- HAHAHHAHAHA

I laugh a bit too loud and Sophie looks at me somewhat surprised. I cover my mouth.

\- I'm sorry. It's just that...you have a good sense of humor. Ehm, what is it that you do?

\- I work for an awful bank.

Sophie points her fingers to her head, as if she was shooting herself.

\- HAHAHHAHA

Ah, no, I don't intend to laugh like that but Sophie is really funny. I don't want to make her uncomfortable. My hands shake nervously. I've never been on a date, least of all with such a beautiful woman. Sophie looks at me attentively, waiting for me to speak. But I don't know how to continue. I pick the mug up with one hand but it's so sweaty that the mug slips away and falls, crushing on the floor and splashing the tea all over the place.

\- HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA

This time it's not because of something funny, it's a nervous breakdown from having done everything wrong and it triggers my laughter. I don't want this, please not. Not here and not now. But I can't control it. I try to drown my laughter by covering my mouth with my elbow but it doesn't help. This time Sophie looks scared.

\- I'm s-sorry...HAHAHAHAHAH. S-sorry! I don't want to... HAHAHHAHAHA laugh...

She looks at me unable to understand anything. I desperately search my pocket until I find my card and hand it to her. Sophie reads it and glances at me with an expression I'm unable to decipher.

\- I'm really s-sorry HAHA...She puts the card back in my pocket. I wait until I get some air back in my lungs.

\- I didn't mean to be rude, I'm sorry. I'm sick. Sorry...it's best if I go. Just let me clean this up and I'll leave.

I'm used to rejection. I see it coming. I get up but Sophie stops me, putting a hand on my arm.

\- It's alright. Don't worry...everything's fine.

\- I didn't mean to make such a mess...forgive me.

\- Don't worry, I have more mugs...please stay.

Stay? She really wants to spend time with me? Despite my...condition?Sophie tries to smile and comfort me but there is something else on her face, something that is also on Gigi's face when she looks at me. Empathy.

Together we pick up the rests of porcelain and Sophie mops the floor. I sit down again. I try to control my trembling legs. I feel awful. Sophie returns with a new cup of tea. She softly blows the surface to cool down the tea. She sits down and hands me the mug.

\- Hold it with both hands.- she says when she sees that I'm shaking.

She places the mug between my hands and puts her own hands over mine.

\- Relax...nothing happened.

Her warm and soft hands give me peace and she doesn't let go until I stop shaking. What little physical contact I know are the punches I get from the hands of strangers on the streets. And the words I hear the most are insults and screams. But Sophie's hands are gentle and her words sweet. She has something that no one else in this world has. Patience.

\- Do you feel better?

I nod.

\- Yes...thank you.

Our eyes meet for a second, Sophie smiles at me and I feel my cheeks flush.

\- Do you mind if I smoke?- she asks all of the sudden.

\- Oh no, not at all! Actually...

I take a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and offer her one.

\- Oh, wow! They're the same I always smoke. Thanks!

Sophie takes one and I light it for her.

\- You said you live with your mom, right?- she asks after a while.

\- Yes...she needs help. Her health is very fragile.

\- I see.

\- Mom took good care of me when I was little and now it's my turn to take care of her. But I do it happily, I take good care of her.

Sophie watches me in silence while she exhales smoke.

\- You're a good man, Arthur.

I don't know how to reply to that. I just smile sheepishly.

\- There's something I wanted to show you.

Sophie gets up and returns with a sheet of green paper in her hand.

\- At Gigi's school they asked the kids to speak about someone special in their lives. Someone of their choice. They're of course too young to write, so they shared their thoughts with the teacher so she could write them down. This is what Gigi said. I thought you'd like to read it.

Sophie hands me the folded paper. I carefully open it and read it in silence.

_**Arthur**_

_**Arthur is a clown. He has a red nose and a green wig. He is my friend. He gave me a blue balloon and I made a drawing for him. He likes to laugh and he is very funny. But he is also sad. That is why I bring him cookies. I love him very much. **_

_**Gigi**_

My eyes get wet. This is so beautiful.

\- Gigi is very kind...- I say - ...just like you...-

I give her back the paper.

\- Keep it. - says Sophie - It's for you.-

I fold the paper and put it in my pocket.

\- Thank you.

We drink tea in silence for a while.

\- How did you become a clown?- Sophie asks after a moment.

\- Well, mom always said that my purpose in life is to bring joy and laughter to the world.

\- That sounds very good.

\- I like to make people laugh.

\- Gigi says you're very funny.

\- Oh, well...hahaha kids are easier to please. Adults...they don't have so much sense of humor...

\- That's true.

\- But I'm not just a clown. I'm also a comedian. Well...at least I'm trying to be. Would you like to hear a joke?

\- Yeah! Sure.

\- Ok, here it goes: What do you get when you cross a bunny and a Rottweiler?

\- Mmm, I don't know...

\- Just the Rottweiler!

\- Hahahahahha

Sophie laughs. She really thinks I'm funny? I laugh as well. Not with that horrible laughter that is no laughter, but with a true is beautiful, she is kind, she enjoys smoking and she laughs at my jokes! I think she's wonderful!

\- Thank you for the tea, Sophie.- I say and hand her back the empty mug.

\- Thanks for coming over, Arthur.

We both get up and she opens the door for me.

\- Sophie...

\- Yes?

\- Ehm...not sure if you like stand up comedy, but if you do, you could come see me sometime. The palce is called Pogo's, on seventh avenue. I'll be there on Thursday...

\- Maybe I will...

\- Good night, Sophie.

\- Good night, Arthur.


	8. The first low blow

**The first low blow**

\- Arthur! I got you a new job. It's at the children's hospital. They want you to do some clown stuff...see if you can cheer them up. Apparently they're depressed about something, who knows...

\- Children's hospital? Really?

\- Yes! Are you deaf?!

\- No, it's just...ah, thank you so much! I'll love to do that job!

\- Yes yes yes, shut up and hurry with the damn makeup. Don't waste my time and don't be late!

\- Yes, sir.

It's the best place Hoyt could've sent me to! I sit down in front of the mirror and start with my makeup. I always take my shirt off to do this, so I don't stain my collar.

\- Hello Artie!

\- Hello Gary!

\- You're in a good mood today!

\- Yes, Hoyt just sent me to the children's hospital. Its great, don't you think?

\- I'm glad, Artie! I got sent to the mall. Guess what! There's a home appliances store that brags about having the "lowest" prices, get it? Lowest! And apparently they think that I represent their slogan very well...

\- HAHAHAHAHA... great, Gary. Sorry, but this time it really is funny!

\- Hahaha...I guess it is...

\- Hey, Gary...

\- Yes?

\- I met a girl...very pretty by the way! She says that she might come and see me at Pogo's! I've decided to try my luck on Thursday. I've prepared some jokes.

\- That's awesome, Artie! I'm happy for you.

\- Thanks, Gary! Do you think she'll go?

\- Of course! Why wouldn't she? I'm sure you'll make her laugh.

Gary lifts my spirits.

\- She said it out of pity.- a voice interrupts us.

I hadn't realized that Randall was here, listening. He stands behind me and our eyes meet in the mirror. Randy is not like Gary, he's my colleague but he's not really my friend.

\- Come on, just look at yourself! Who could want you? What woman could possibly be interested in you? Women look for strong men, muscular and handsome. Men who are sure of themselves, someone who can protect them.

I observe my figure in the mirror. My bony torso, my pale, bruised skin. I see my emaciated face, my tired eyes, my clown make up...a white foundation, the blue around the eyes and the red mouth. A fake smile. Randall is right...who could want me? Certainly not a woman as special as Sophie.

\- See? She pities you. You're nothing but a sad clown.

A tear springs from my right eye and runs down my cheek, running the blue and staining the white.

\- Shut up, Randy!- says Gary.

\- I'm only trying to help. Ain't it so, Art?

Randall puts an arm around my shoulder and smiles at me through the mirror. I look down. I don't like his smile. It makes me very uncomfortable. Randall can be very intimidating.

\- I don't want my boy to get all excited and end up getting hurt.

I feel his hand squeezing my arm.

_My boy..._

I hate how those words sound. I don't know why, I just know that I hate them.

\- Isn't that so, Artie?!- Randall insists.

His voice becomes threatening. His fingers dig into my arm. He hurts me.

\- Leave him, Randy!- says Gary, trying to defend me.

\- Stay out of this, malformed dwarf!

Randall lets go of me and leaves.

\- Artie are you ok?- asks Gary, frightened.

\- Yes, Gary. Nothing happened...

The children's hospital is a strange place where all feelings mix. There are children without hair, children on wheelchairs, others who are connected to an oxygen tank, others who can't get up from their beds. It's a sad place.

In their faces I see all the demons of this world. Abandonment, despair, resignation. There's a light that goes off in their eyes. These poor souls that begin to understand that there's no dream that is not destined to be broken, no flower that isn't born to wither, no innocence that endures without corrupting. I feel an enormous anguish taking hold of me, something much bigger than myself, that is this horrifying universal fear.

But in spite of all that, all these children rejoice when they see me walk in. Those who can, get up and approach me, the others just watch. But they all smile. I teach them songs and games and magic tricks. I dance for them and tell them jokes. They borrow my clown nose and my wig. And I, who can't even help myself, feel moved by knowing that I'm able to help these little angels.

\- I have a new job...one that I love.

\- I'm glad to hear that...

\- I bring you good news for the first time since I started this therapy and you don't say anything more?

The therapist looks down, sighs and looks at me again.

\- Arthur, this is the last time we will be speaking...I'm sorry.

\- ...

\- They're cutting all social programs. They say there's no funding. I'm sorry...

It's a low blow. I didn't see this coming...

\- Where am I supposed to get my prescriptions now?

\- I'm really sorry...you must understand that they don't give a damn about any of this. They don't care about people like you...and they honestly don't care about people like me either.

What else can I do but lighting another cigarette? Although I wasn't enjoying these sessions, I believe they were truly helping me. And without the pills I'll feel worse than I already do. I don't even know who to take it out on..._they_ don't have a face. There's no funding they say...but for the Thomas Waynes of this world, there's plenty.

The palaces of the rich are cemented with the misery of the poor.

\- Who will help me now?- I ask, feeling dejected.

\- Try to continue with your diary, Arthur. Try to carry on without the pills. God will help you.

\- God? HAHAHAHAH...He's the worst comedian of all.- I laugh bitterly.

\- The world is nothing more than a big bad joke.

\- You don't believe in God, Arthur?

\- I do. I believe that God is a pretty clumsy guy...when he created man, he didn't realize he was also creating the devil.

At night, when I sit down to write my diary, I feel that my mind is blank. My thoughts seem light, floating casually from one place to another. I don't write anything down. I take the last pills I have left. The gun I was keeping in my bag is now on the table. I contemplate it. My fingers run across its cold body. I take it in my hand. I watch my reflection in the window. I point the gun to my temple. I close my eyes. My body shivers.

There's a voice inside my head, but it's not mine.

_Arthur is my friend...I love him very much...would you like a cup of tea?...please, stay...you're a good man, Arthur..._

I open my eyes. I lower the gun. I put it back in the bag from where I should never have taken it.

My hands return to the open notebook on the table. I search for a blank page and tear it off. I stretch it out and start folding it until I make a paper flower. It's something I learned to do, a clown thing. I take out some of my red paint which I use for my smile and paint the petals. Then I apply some green to the stem and leaves.

I cross the hallway and stop in front of apartment 8B. I fix my hair and straighten my shirt collar. I'm holding a paper flower in my hand. I hear Sophie's voice between the noise of the TV. I lift my hand to knock on the door but something stops me. I can't.

_She pities you...look at yourself...who could want you?...nothing but a sad clown... who could want you?..._

I lower my hand. I put the flower in my pocket. I turn around and go back home.


	9. Dreams and things alike

**Dreams and things alike**

-_Arthur! _

_Somebody yells my name. I don´t know who it is. I can´t see anything. Where am I? _

_\- Where´s my boy?!_

_Everything is dark around me and it´s so, so cold. I´m scared. _

_\- ARTHUR! _

_The same voice screams my name. It´s a man´s voice. Suddenly a door opens and the light blinds me. _

_\- Why are you hiding?! _

_I can´t see his face, I just feel that someone grabs me by the wrists and pulls me violently. _

_\- Come here, BOY!_

I wake up. My heart beats so loud I can almost hear it. My body is drenched in sweat. The darkness around me fades a little and I recognize my sorroundings. I´m on the couch, I´m home. Ah, it was just a dream…just a dream. It´s not the first time I have a nightmare like this. They´re actually quite frequent, although not always as real as now. I glance at the clock, it´s only 2:00am. But I´m scared of going back to sleep. I fear another nightmare. I get up. My legs feel weak and shaky. I open the bedroom door.

\- Mom?- I ask softly.

But she´s fast asleep. I walk over to the bed.

\- Mom...can I sleep here tonight?

She always takes some pills that help her sleep and I really don´t want to bother her. I try to make as little noise as possible as I lay myself down and curl up next to her.

\- Mom...I´m scared...

There are dreams so real that you can´t possibly forget them after waking up. They don´t always make sense but they leave a feeling behind that remains with you throughout the day. I´m starting to fear that without my pills, these nightmares and hallucinations will become more frequent and more real.

The next morning before I head out to work, I remove the gun from my bag and decide to save it in my pants. The subway can be a frightening place. There´s not only drunks, but all sorts of criminals. It´s not a place where I´d want to stand out and for some reason I feel safer carrying the gun close to me. I feel protected.

Tonight Pogo's is packed. There´s a great atmosphere. I´m nervous. My hands hold firmly to my notebook. I don´t want to risk forgetting what I have to say. This is my only chance. I want to get it right.

\- Please, let´s all welcome...ARTHUR FLECK!

I climb the three steps that lead to the stage. The lights blind me, people clap in anticipation. I walk up to the host who´s standing in front of the microphone and he steps down. I look around. This is amazing! It´s what I´ve always dreamed of. And now I´m here and people see me. I´m no longer invisible! I stand in front of the microphone , all eyes are on me, but I can´t see the faces. The lights are too bright. I breathe in and open my notebook.

\- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA

No...

Some laughter can be heard. I try again.

\- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA

I can´t...

Nothing can be heard anymore. The room has gone completely quiet. The only thing that cuts through the silence is this thunderous laughter that breaks my throat and robs my lungs of air. It hurts. People watch me drown. They don´t understand what´s happening.

At last, a bit of air...I try one more time.

\- I hated school...HAHAHAHA...I ha-hated school as a kid...HAHAHAHHA.

I can´t stop laughing. I feel sweat running down my forehead. My sight blurs. When I look up again, I manage to see the tables in the first row. People look at me confused, impatient, irritated. They don´t know if they should laugh or not. They point their fingers at me and whisper. I want to disappear…

Wait! There´s...her! Sophie? It´s Sophie! Right there, at a table to my right. She came! She came to see me! She looks me in the eyes and smiles sweetly, encouraging me to go on.

I take a deep breath and start over once again.

\- I ha-hated school as a kid. But my mom would say: Arthur, one day you´ll have to work for living.

I glance over to Sophie again.

\- Go on!- her lips say.

Another deep breath.

\- And I´d say: No mom, I´m going to be a comedian! And when I said I was going to be a comedian, everyone laughed at me…well, no one´s laughing now!

I open my arms, waiting for the people´s reaction. I made it! My eyes turn to Sophie. She stands up, smiles and claps. I have no eyes or ears for the rest of the room. I can´t hear if they laugh, I can´t hear if they clap. I just know that Sophie does, excitedly.

I get down from the stage and walk straight up to her.

\- You came!

\- I wouldn´t have missed it for anything!

I feel like hugging her with all my strength. But that might be weird. I just clamp the notebook with my hands and smile with my heart racing in my chest.

\- Did I do well?

\- I think you did great!

I can´t do anything but look at her with love. The rest of the room and the rest of the world no longer exist, only she does.

\- Sophie...can I buy you a coffee?

She nods.

\- Ok.

A few blocks away is a fairly decent place to take a woman out on a date. It´s not fancy at all but smoking is allowed and that´s important. We sit across each other and a waitress comes over to our table.

\- What can I get you?

\- Sophie, have anything you like.- I say.

\- I´ll have a coffee, please.- she says.

\- Me, too. Ah, but don´t you want anything else? Do you like chocolate cake? They have a very good one here!

\- Hmmm alright.

\- Then that´s two coffees and two pieces of cake?- the waitress asks.

\- No, no. Just one piece...- I say - I´m not so much into chocolate...thanks!-

I can´t afford two pieces, but I don´t mind. I just want Sophie to have what she desires.

\- Thank you for coming to see me...

\- I loved to!

\- You really liked it?

I remember Randall´s words and feel insecure. But Sophie takes my hand, squeezing it softly and looks me in the eyes.

\- Of curse I did, Arthur!

Her face is sincere. She speaks from her heart. I smile sheepishly, unable to say a word.

\- I didn´t really enjoy those who came out before you…their jokes were more…ordinary. Others were quite offensive. You´re different. You like to play with words and their meaning…you´ve got more style, I like that!

Sophie is so kind. I don´t know what to say.

\- You look very beautiful today...

\- You´re looking very elegant yourself.

My cheeks blush. I´ve never gotten so much attention and compliments from anyone, least of all from a woman.

The waitress returns with our things. I watch as Sophie sweetens her coffee. All her movements are gentle and she always makes eye contact. It´s strange…when she looks at me, I feel like she can see right through me, as if I was made of glass.

She takes the mug in her hands and guides it to her lips. She enjoys every sip of coffee. Today she´s wearing a blue strip around her hair. The white shirt highlights her dark skin. What right do I have to eye her like this?

\- Arthur...your coffee is running cold...

\- Oh, yes...

I didn´t even realize how lost I got. I pour two teaspoons of sugar in my coffee and stir. Sophie chuckles.

\- Arthur, you had already sweetened that!

\- Oh no...

It´s true. The coffee is way too sweet. I´m so distracted. It doesn´t matter though. I drink it anyways.

\- Is all that notebook full of jokes?- asks Sophie.

I forgot I left it on the table. I wouldn´t want anyone to see its content, least of all Sophie.

\- Well it has jokes but it´s also a sort of diary…a little bit of everything…- I explain and put it back in my bag.

\- Writing things down...it helps me...to feel better.

I feel ashamed talking about my condition.

\- I think it does us all good to unload our thoughts somewhere…- she says.

Sophie is understanding when no one else is. Where everybody sees a freak, she sees a man.

Again I become aware that I´ve completely lost myself in her eyes. There´s something about her that seems like a dream to me.

Sophie takes her fork and cuts a piece of cake.

\- Mmmm this is so good!

She cuts another piece.

\- Eat, Arthur!

\- Oh no, its´s for you, Sophie!

But Sophie insists and guides the fork to my mouth.

\- Open up!

I give in. It´s truly good. One bite for her, one bite for me. And so we finish the cake together.

\- You have some chocolate.- says Sophie laughing as she points to the corner of her own lips.

I lift my hand to wipe my face. Sophie laughs again.

\- The other side, Arthur...haha. Come, let me help you.

She holds my chin with one hand and it feels like a soft cares son my skin. Her other hand grabs a napkin and ever so gently she wipes the corner of my lips.

\- There you go...

\- Thanks- I say, slightly blushing.

We walk back home in silence, with our hands in our pockets. Today the stairs seem short. We reach the top too soon. I´d like this night to last forever. The wind doesn´t seem cold anymore, the building no longer seems awful and I curse the elevator for getting to the eigth floor so fast. Here our ways part.

\- Hold on...- I say before she leaves - There´s something I want to give you.-

From my pocket I take out the paper flower I had made the other day and hand it to her.

\- I made it for you...

Sophie is surprised. She takes the flower, eyes it with a smile and twirls it in her fingers.

\- I wanted to give you a real one but it seems that flowers no longer grow in this awful city...

\- Thank you Arthur, it´s beautiful! It´s actually much more beautiful than a real one…since you made it. Thanks for a lovely evening…

\- Thank you for coming...

\- Bye Arthur. Sleep well...

\- Bye Sophie...


	10. The last good day

**The last good day**

There are moments in life that mark a before and after. There are decisions that lead us down a path of no return. The problem is that we don´t realize until it´s too late.

I don´t know at what moment the guns falls from my pocket. One second I´m dancing with the kids at the hospital and the next I see the gun roll across the floor. I hurry and pick it up but everybody has already seen it. Both kids and doctors. In a final attempt to save the day, I laugh and hide it again, trying to make it seem like a part of my act. Maybe I can trick the kids, but I know I can´t fool the doctors. When I leave the hospital I´m perfectly aware of what I´ve just done. How could I be so clumsy? Why didn´t I just leave the damn gun in my bag? At this point Hoyt must already know. I know he´ll fire me. Anyone would. I took a gun to a children´s hospital.

I don´t go back to HAHA. Instead I look for a bathroom where I can change and remove my makeup. I get back into my normal clothes and put the clown clothes in my bag. I can´t believe how stupid I was.

I walk out and start wandering aimlessly. I let my feet carry me wherever they want until I reach a dark alley. I don´t even know where I am. And I also don´t care. What am I going to do now? Where will I go if Hoyt fires me? Who will give me work? How will I provide for mom? An enormous fear takes hold of me and quickly turns into rage. I take it out kicking and stomping on the garbage bags around me. Why? Why must everything always come difficult to me?! I lash out at the bags with all my strength. Again, again and again until my legs give in and I fall to the filthy ground. I sit there, surrounded by all the garbage. I hug my legs to my chest and drop my forehead on my knees. I don´t know if I´m crying. Raindrops and tears are hard to tell apart.

Why do I hold on, facing this dark need to keep on living? For what I know, at the end of the day I´m just another day older, and that´s all. I´m tempted to just let myself die right here. Let it be. Death is a liberation. Let it all be over. My mind clings to this thought: nothing. Wouldn´t that be a relief? Think of nothing, feel nothing, _be_ nothing.

I don´t know for how long I stay there, completely still except for my restless chest that struggles to breathe. How can my body be so still when inside me there is a storm mightier than the storm in the sky? The sound of thunder and a bolt of lightning bring me back to reality. My thoughts reconnect with my body. My clothes are wet just like my hair. There´s a bone-wrenching cold. Suddenly I´m invaded by an indescribable fear. If I let myself die here, people will walk right over my dead body without even noticing. I´ll be tossed in a dark alley, on this dirty floor and people won´t see me. They won´t see me because they never look down. And I will have died without ever having existed.

No… I refuse to die like this…

I summon all of my strength and get on my feet one more time. I collect my bag that landed in a corner and I continue my way home. Rain keeps on falling on me and when I finally make it to my front door, I´m completely soaked. I stop right there and I realize something. I don´t have the heart to come home and tell mom that I fear I have lost my job. How could I look her in the face? No, I can´t go inside. I don´t know what to do or where to go and I simply end up sitting in the hallway, next to the door.

...

\- Arthur?


	11. The die is cast

**The die is cast**

\- Arthur?

\- S-Sophie...

When did she get here?

\- Arthur, what are you doing there?

Sophie drops her umbrella and the bag of groceries she´s carrying and crouches down to look at me.

\- You´re soaked. What happened? Why aren´t you at home?

I try to think of an excuse, any at all.

\- I...forgot my keys... and mom takes some sleeping pills. It´s impossible to wake her...

I´m so ashamed of having to admit what happened today.

\- You can´t stay here like this. Come with me.

Sophie reaches a hand out to me. Only now do I dare to look up at her. She seems worried. I don´t want to bother, I know we barely know each other. And at the same time I have nowhere else to go.

\- Come on, Arthur, you´ll get sick. Let me help you.

I hesitate for a moment, but I realize that Sophie isn´t leaving without me. I take her hand and she helps me up. Without a word, I follow her to her apartment.

\- Gigi! I´m home!

Gigi comes running to greet her mother and is surprised when she sees me there as well.

\- Arthur!

\- Hello, Gigi.

\- Gigi, get me a towel. Quick!- says Sophie and guides me over to the couch.

Gigi hurries back with a towel and Sophie puts it around my shoulders, helping me to dry my hair.

\- You need some dry clothes. Let me see what I can find.

\- No need. I...got my work clothes right here, I think they didn´t get wet.

I open the bag and make sure that my things are in fact dry.

\- Great. Come, Gigi. Let´s give Arthur some space so he can change.

They leave me alone for a while. It´s such a relief to take the wet clothes off my body. I´m so embarrassed that Sophie will see me in my clown trousers, short, wide and patched everywhere. When I´m working and become Carnival, the clown, I don´t mind it. The outfit is supposed to be somewhat ridiculous. But I don´t want to be Carnival in front of Sophie. Still, I have no other choice. I remove my shoes and put on the trousers. I have to stay barefoot because I have no other pair of socks. I take the clown shirt which has little red and green dots and pull the sleeves up my arms. As I´m doing this, Sophie returns.

\- Arthur, do you need a pair of-

She´s frozen on the spot when she sees me and she covers her mouth with one hand.

\- Arthur what happened to you?!

For a second I´m clueless. And then I realize she´s looking at my still exposed chest, her eyes fixed on the green and purple marks that cover my skin, on the small wounds that still haven´t healed and on my protruding ribs and sunken stomach. As I see her horrified face, I cover my body with my arms, trying to hide it from her view and I look down. I didn´t want her to see me like this. Shame mortifies me. How could someone want to see something so awful? How could such a beautiful woman want to come anyway near such a mishandled man?

But Sophie walks over to me…and puts a hand on my shoulder.

\- Let me see you.

Her voice is soft, barely a whisper. Her hands carefully take my wrists and pull my arms away from my body, making it visible again.

\- Oh my God...who did this to you?

I can´t look her in the eyes and I decide to look at my feet.

\- No one...- I say in a voice that can barely be heard.

\- Everyone...- I add.

Sophie remains silent. She doesn´t ask any questions and I´m grateful for that. I look up for a split second to see her face and I notice the tears in her eyes. She doesn´t allow them to run, she contains them.

And then her fingers begin to button my shirt, starting from the bottom and all the way up to my neck. She runs her hand over my arm softly and it´s such an unexpected feeling, so unusual to me. I pull away instinctively, it´s a reflex. Sophie withdraws her hand and waits for a few seconds before touching me again.

\- Don´t worry, I´m not going to hurt you.

Her touch is soft and gentle, so careful, as if she was touching a fragile crystal figure. And I, who don´t know anything else but the punches and kicks on my mistreated body, I feel like an angel came to heal my pain..

Sophie guides her hand to my face and lifts my chin, establishing eye contact. Even if I wanted, I couldn´t look away. Her dark eyes stare at me with compassion and I feel completely naked, not in my body but in my soul. I feel like she can see all the suffering in my eyes and read all the scars on my heart.

\- You´ll sleep here tonight. I´ll set up the couch for you, ok?

\- I really don´t want to bother...

\- I wasn´t asking, Arthur.

I just nod.

\- Ok. But you have to eat something first.

\- Oh, don´t worry. Really, I´m not hungry.- I assure her.

That she´s letting me stay here for the night is already too much. I can´t accept more tan that, it wouldn´t be right. But Sophie insists.

\- Do you like mac and cheese? They´re Gigi´s favorite.

I can´t help it. Just from imagining a hot meal right now I feel hungry and my stomach roars, begging me to accept the offer.

\- Ok...- I say. - Only if it´s not a big deal...-

\- Of course not. We´ll love to have you as a guest.

My lips open in a bright smile. Sophie smiles back.

\- Put these on, the floor is cold.- she adds, handing me a pair of socks. - Ok. I´ll make dinner now.-

\- Can I help?- I ask.

I know Sophie works hard and she must be tired.

\- None of that. Today you´re my guest. And you´re here to warm yourself up, eat and rest.

Sophie hums a song while she cooks. I watch her in silence until Gigi shows up again. She sits at my side and I let her play with my wig, my clown nose and some toys I usually take to the children´s hospital. We laugh and play for a while until Sophie calls us over to the table.

I don´t know if it´s the hot meal that I haven´t eaten in such a long time or if it´s the warm atmosphere that spreads as we all sit here together, but I feel very well.

\- This is delicious, Sophie. You´re a great cook...

\- Hahahah, it´s just noodles from a box, Arthur. You just add water. I don´t know how to cook.

We laugh together.

\- Mom, I want some more!- says Gigi.

\- Give me your plate.

Sophie serves more for her daughter. I yearn for more food and I don´t dare to ask. But Sophie seems to read my thoughts. Or perhaps it´s the sound coming from my starving stomach.

\- Arthur, do you want some more?

She doesn´t even wait for a reply. She just takes my plate and refills it.

\- Thanks...

After dinner I help her clean up the table. It´s already late. Sophie looks for a blanket and arranges the couch for me.

\- I´ll get you a pillow, wait here.- she says.

Gigi comes back in her pajamas, carrying her teddy bear.

\- Look, Arthur, this is my bear. You like him?

\- He´s very nice!

\- Do you have one, too?

\- No...but as a matter of fact, when I was a kid like you, I had a toy. But it wasn´t a bear. It was a rag clown. He had green hair and a red suit.

My thoughts travel back to that toy I loved so much, the only toy I ever had. I had completely forgotten about it. I can´t even remember what happened to it. There´s so many things about my childhood that I don´t recall.

\- Do you still have it?- Gigi asks.

\- I´m afraid I lost it…

\- Gigi, time for bed!- says Sophie as she hands me a pillow.

\- Yes, mom!...Good night, Arthur.

\- Good night, Gigi. Sleep well.

Gigi hugs her mom and wishes her good night, too. Sophie wraps her in her arms tenderly, hugs her to her chest and gives her a kiss.

\- Do you need anything else, Arthur?

Yes…there´s something I have needed all my life, and seeing it in front of me, I feel the longing for it so desperately. But I´d never dare to ask for it. How could I? I close my eyes, I imagine Sophie hugs me, too, just like she hugs Gigi and that her warm embrace puts my broken pieces back together. A sigh escapes from my chest and I open my eyes. She looks at me, waiting for me to reply.

\- Oh, no. Nothing, Sophie. I´m fine.- I assure her.

\- Ok. Sleep well.

\- Good night.

\- Good night, Arthur.

Sophie turns out the lights and retreats to her bedroom. I lay down and close my eyes. There´s a very special scent in the pillow, in the blanket…I breathe it in, trying to burn it into my memory and keep it there forever. The rain continues to hit the windows and from time to time the room is lit by a bolt of lightning. I replay Sophie´s hum in my head, as if her song was lulling me to sleep.

The soft sound of barefoot steps wakes me up after a while. But my eyelids are too heavy, I can barely open my eyes. In the dark I make out Sophie´s silhouette. She walks over to me and I feel a second blanket being placed over my body. I keep my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. I feel her hand brushing softly against my forehead and stroking my hair. It´s such a subtle touch, so delicate and at the same time so intense. I must be dreaming.

\- Sophie?- I mumble, slightly opening my eyes.

\- Sorry Arthur, I didn´t mean to wake you. I just figured you might be cold.

Sophie adjusts the blanket around my body.

\- It´s ok. Go back to sleep.- she says.

Trying to make no sound at all, she walks back to her room.

\- Sophie?

\- Yes?- she says, turning around.

\- ... Thank you...

She smiles.

\- Sleep well, Arthur.

I close my eyes again. Even when there´s still a storm outside, inside me there´s peace, at least for one night. And I repeat to myself:

Don´t worry, Arthur. The die is cast.


	12. The man in the mirror

**The man in the mirror**

\- Thank you for everything, Sophie…

\- You don't need to thank me.

I say goodbye, being so grateful for her hospitality of last night. I collect my things and get ready to leave. Sophie opens the door for me.

\- Bye, Sophie. I wish you a lovely day.

Sophie looks at me as if she wanted to say something. She sighs.

\- Arthur.

\- Yes?

\- Nobody has the right to hurt you…

Her words resonate in my mind during the entire way. I'm wearing my clown clothes since last night. I decide to go to work as if nothing had happened. I'm the first one to arrive today. I put on my makeup as the other guys start to flow in one by one. And then Hoyt shows up.

-ARTHUR!

I hear him yell my name.

I finish buttoning my shirt and walk to his office with a lump in my throat.

\- Uuuuh what did you do this time, Artie?- laughs Randall.

I ignore him. Fear paralizes me. I close the door behind me but before I can even sit down, I'm already unemployed.

\- You're fired!

I know that Hoyt's voice can be heard all the way to the hall. Everyone is listening.

\- Hoyt, wait. I can explain...

\- EXPLAIN WHAT?!

\- The gun was a prop, it's part of my act.

\- Stop it! You're a damn liar, Arthur! Randall told me you tried to buy a gun from him last week. I'm fed up! I gave you a job even when you're weird and nobody likes you, and all you do is give me trouble!

\- Please, sir, give me a chance. I love this job and I really need it!

\- I LOST ANOTHER CLIENT BECAUSE OF YOU! TAKE YOUR THINGS AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!

All eyes are on me but nobody says a word. Gary is the only one who walks up to me as I open my locker to collect my things.

\- I'm sorry, Artie. This is so unfair…

\- It's ok, Gary…

I finish packing and walk to the front door.

\- Did you really bring a gun to the children's hospital, Arthur?- asks Roger, a colleague of mine. Ex colleague I mean.

\- What were you going to do? Kill yourself if they didn't laugh at your jokes? Hahahhahaa.

\- Why don't you ask Randall?- I reply - It's his gun after all...-

\- Shut up!- says Randall.

\- Oh yes, that reminds me I still owe you for that one, right?

\- Stop talking out of your ass, Arthur!

I turn my back to them and walk out that door for the last time. For a few minutes, I feel good, I feel free. But that feeling fades away after a while and that fatal feeling of defeat returns. I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. My mind is blank.

I'm not aware of how the next few hours go by. A mental gap builds up inside my head. It seems like my legs automatically carried me to the subway. I only know that I'm sitting on a bench watching the trains come and leave. It's already dark, that time of the night when the trains run almost empty. When I get on, I see only one person in the entire wagon. It's a young lady who's distracted reading a book and doesn't seem to notice my presence. I drop myself on a seat several feet away from her. The train departs. The tracks creak and the wagon shakes along with my body. I see my image reflecting on the graffiti covered windows. I forgot to remove my makeup and I'm still wearing my wig and all my outfit. The moving train makes me sleepy and my eyes close from time to time.

Suddenly the train comes to a halt. The lights blink. I'm not yet home. The doors open and three men in elegant suits walk in. They're young and visibly drunk, especially one of them. They take a seat across the lady who's still absorbed in her book. The train moves again. The sound of the wheels hitting the tracks doesn't allow me to hear what they're saying, but I see theat the drunker one tries to catch the girl's attention. She does her best to ignore him but I can tell she feels threatened. There's fear on her face. I know how she feels. A burst of laughter escapes from my lips and one of the guys turns his face towards me. They hadn't seen me until now. The girl also looks at me. A laughing fit builds up and suddenly all the attention is on me. The frightened girl gets up and walks over to the next wagon. I want to explain her that I'm not laughing at her. I'd never laugh at someone in that situation. I'm also scared of those men, just like her. One of them sits down next to me and the other one stands in front.

\- Tell us, little clown…what are you laughing at?!

-N-nothing! HAHHAHAHAHAHHA

The guy next to me takes the wig from my head.

\- What's so funny, asshole?!

\- Nothing AHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAA…I-I'm s-sick...

I look for the card in my pocket but to no avail. One of them grabs my arms and the other punches me in the face, throwing me to the floor.

\- FUCKING FREAK!

I feel their merciless kicks over my whole body. I try to protect my neck and face. They kick my ribs, my legs, my stomach. They're not going to stop. This time they'll kill me. I'm sure of it.

_Nobody has the right to hurt you..._

Sophie's sweet voice seems to whisper in my ear.

The gun! Between the punches that keep falling viciously on me, I draw the gun from my pocket and without even seeing where I aim, I close my eyes and pull the trigger. The shot rumbles in my ears. The punches stop. There's blood on the walls. One is dead. I shoot at the second guy. I'm on my feet. The drunker one who watched all the scene from his seat seems to regain his composure all the sudden and tries to flee. The third shot hits his leg. The train stops and the man bangs on the doors, screaming for help. The doors open and he runs across the station, limping and leaving behind a trail of blood. I follow him. I point. Shot, shot, shot. The gun runs empty. The man is dead.

I look around. The station is completely empty.

\- Shit!

Suddenly I feel my body covered in cold sweat. What have I just done? I killed three men... I start running, bag in my hand. I run and run as fast as my legs will carry me. I don't know where I'm going. I just know that I have to get away from here. I cross streets and dark alleys, most of them completely empty. I stop abruptly when I see a door in a dark corner. I push it open and walk into a bathroom. I close the door behind me and drop my bag. I lean my hands on the wall, trying to catch my breath. My legs are shaking, my heart is racing. Everything inside my head is fuzzy. I can't process what just happened. I feel like the walls close in on me, suffocating me. There's blood on my clothes, blood on my hands. I killed three men...

Despite the dim light in the bathroom, I can see my face in the mirror above the sink. The makeup is completely ruined and stained with blood, mine and theirs.

I killed three men...I killed three men...

The horror transforms into a strange fascination. My fear transforms into strength and the strength into power. Retaliation!

There's a roar inside of me... there's fire in my veins... there's a tune in my ears that only I can hear...

From the shadows that I perceive inside of me, someone else emerges. Who are you and where have you been all this time? I know you although it's the first time I see you.

An invisible audience attends my presentation. I spread my arms as if they were wings and I thank them for their ovation. _Oh, Arthur, what a great show!_

And in that broken, dirty and blurred mirror I see the reflection of a man. He looks like me and yet it's not me.


	13. Penny s letters

**Penny´s letters**

The paint runs down the sink. I remove even the last drop of makeup. The traces vanish and the cold water on my face brings me back to reality. I look up. I´m faced with a mirror once again. But this one is clearer. I´m home. Behind the makeup my true face reappears. Who am I, though? There´s still blood running down my nose and my lip is torn. My clothes…they´re all stained with red. I take them off and toss them intto a corner in the bathroom. The shirt, the vest, even the trousers. I leave only my underwear on. I have to get rid of everything, everything that has blood on it. My hands…my hands are also covered with blood! Oh, damn color, impossible to remove! I wash them frantically until I erase even the last trace. What happened tonight? My eyes fall on the bag. For a second I feel hopeful. Maybe none of this was real. Maybe I just got jumped as usual and this is all my own blood. But when I open the bag, I find the gun…and it´s empty. I did indeed do it…

Luckily mom didn´t hear me coming in. She must be fast asleep, as usual. I don´t turn any lights on. I just light a cigarette and sit down to smoke and calm myself. My hands…there´s still blood on my hands. Even if they´re no longer stained with red, I can feel the sensation of that color on my skin. My legs shake violently and I feel a laughing fit building up inside me. What have I done?

-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

I take one of the cushions from the couch and press it against my face to drown the sound of my laughter. My forehead is covered with sweat and even though I´m almost naked, I don´t feel cold.

-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

I bend over. My jar aches from all the effort I do to hold myself together. The laughing fit shakes up all of my body. I know the walls of the building are very thin and I just hope that no one can hear me.

Knock knock.

I get up as if I had been hit by lightning. My heart races. No…please no. Sophie?

Knock knock.

-Arthur?

My eyes are glued to the door from where her voice comes. My feet retreat until my back hits the wall behind me. The table where I sit down to write my diary is next to me. My hand holds the back of the chair, I move it aside, get down on my knees and crawl under the table, covering my ears with both hands. My body rocks back and forth maniacally. I don't want to hear that sound. Sophie…please go… I can´t touch you with these hands… 

I wake up on the couch and I can´t remember how I got there. Bit by bit, I replay the events of last night in my head. I take a bath with ice cold water and shortly after, mom calls me to help her out of bed and into the living room where she turns on the TV and watches the news, like every morning. She doesn´t notice anything. It´s simply another day, just like any other. I make breakfast in the kitchen, as I always do.

-Happy, Thomas Wayne is on TV! Come and see! They´re asking him about some horrible killing in the subway last night.

I nearly drop my plate as I hear this.

\- Why him?- I wonder and hurry over to the TV.

There´s Wayne.

-The three of them were employees at Wayne Corporation. I didn´t know them in person, but to us all our employees, past and present, are family.

-Did you hear that? He said we´re family. I told you.

-Shhh mom, I want to hear!

The faces of those three men stare at me from the screen. I recognize them right away.

-There seems to be an anti-rich sentiment going around in the city. It´s as if the less fortunate ones are taking the side of the killer.- says the reporter who´s interviewing Wayne.

\- That´s why I´m running for Mayor, Gotham´s lost its way. People may not realize it, but I´m their only hope…

\- What do you make of the comments of witnesses saying that the killer was wearing a clown mask?

\- It makes total sense. Who else would do something so cold-blooded? Someone who hides behind a mask! And until those people don´t change for the better, those of us who actually did something with our lives will look at them as nothing but clowns.

\- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA

\- That´s not funny!- says mom, annoyed.

But it is. I light another cigarette to calm the trembling of my legs. Of course it´s funny.

I hit the streets as usual. Except that I don´t have a job to go to anymore. I feel weird. The day is dark and the wind blows strongly, lifting the fallen leaves from the ground. I walk the streets with my hands in my pockets. Every now and then I stand still, I feel like somebody is following me. I turn around but there´s no one there. I continue down the streets and find a group of people crowding around a newspaper stand. I walk over to them. The menacing face of a clown stares at me from all the newspaper covers.

**"Killer clown murders three men."**

I observe that image, fearing it might look anything like me. But it doesn´t. It´s a sketch, a clown with huge, sharp teeth.

**"Triple murder. Clown on the run."**

There´s clowns everywhere. People comment. Some say it was a man in a mask, others say it was just makeup. Everyone seems to have their own theory and nobody´s speaking about anything else. Each corner I pass, I see more and more newspapers. The headlines are many, but they all refer to the same incident.

**"Vigilante clown" **

**"Vendetta against the rich"**

It´s strange…the world doesn´t know I exist, to be honest, for a long time not even I knew if I really existed. But I do, and people are starting to notice. They´re all talking about me and they don´t even know who I am. The paranoid feeling that was holding onto me for a moment starts to fade away and I begin to feel something else…there´s a vague sensation of satisfaction that comes and goes. Yes, there´s someone walking with me, although not behind me…but rather inside me…I can feel it.

-Happy, I wrote another letter for Thomas Wayne. I need you t mail it tomorrow. Can you do that?

I don´t feel like dealing with Thomas Wayne right now.

-Yes, mom.

I help her get to bed and come back to the living room. Mom left the envelope on the table. She forgot to seal it. I pick it up. What on earth does she write to Thomas Wayne? I hesitate for a second but curiosity gets the better of me. I open it and unfold the paper. Even though I read all the way through the letter, my eyes fix only on a few sentences.

_Dear Thomas…_

_…we need your help…_

_…you´re our only hope…_

_…your son and I…_

I stop. I must have gotten it wrong.

_…your son and I…we need you…_

What´s this? Your son? Son?

_…I´ve done a good job raising him…he´s always so happy…but he needs you…_

_…I love you…Penny._

I read through the letter three times. Me? Son of Thomas Wayne? That´s impossible…why did she never tell me? All these years she never said anything! She knew how badly I needed a father, how much I longed to know who he was and why he had left! Why, mom? Why?

-Mom!

I´m surprised at my own rage as my fist hits the door. Mom locks herself up in the bathroom.

-Calm down!

-Mom, open the door!

-I´m not talking to you until you calm down!

I breathe. I breathe.

-Alright…alright. I´ve calmed down.

I lean my forehead against the door.

-Mom…is this true? I need to know…

There´s nothing but silence for a while.

-Thomas Wayne is an extraordinary man, Happy…he´s a very powerful man. We were very in love. But you know…we had to keep up the appearances. They made me sign some papers. We couldn´t be together. You know what they would´ve said about me…what they´d say about you…

\- What would they say, mom?

Would they despise me? They already do. Would they mock me, look down on me? They already do all of that.

A man like Wayne, rich and powerful, how could he be the father of someone…like this…like me? If Wayne is my father, why did he abandon me? Why didn´t he want me? Why did he never try to find me? Maybe it was because of my condition? I always knew my father had abandoned me, but I never knew who he was or why he had left. I always wished for a dad, someone who´d love me and hold me…someone who´d feel proud of me.

Maybe Wayne doesn´t know I exist…

Would he be happy to meet me? I wonder what he´d say…

I need to find out…


	14. Face to face

**Face to face**

There´s not much to choose from in my wardrobe, but I do my best to find clothes that are in better shape, the least worn out pieces. I pick a dark shirt that I hadn´t used in a long time. Regarding the trousers, I think the blues ones are the newest. Newest means less old. I only have one pair of shoes, but with a bit of polishing it´ll do. I just hope to make a good impression. It´s not every day that you get to meet your father for the first time. Finally, I throw the yellow sweater over my shoulders, the one I wear daily. It´s quite old but it´s the only thing I have to keep me warm.

Last night I saw Thomas Wayne on the TV again. He talked about a charity event he would attend tonight. This is my chance. I need to see him, I need to talk to him.

As I arrive at the station closest to the theater, I´m faced with a huge multitude of people. It´s a protest, just like they had anticipated on the news last night. Everybody is wearing clown masks and holding big signs in their hands.

**"Wayne clown"**

**"Kill the rich"**

**"We´re all clowns"**

I make my way through the crowd, fascinated. Is this the reaction to Wayne´s statements? Are these masks a reflection of my own face? Am I, in some strange way, the cause of all of this? The crowd reaches all the way down to the gates of the theater, where police officers barricade the entrance so that the protesters won´t block it. Those closest to the gate clash with the police men and chaos breaks out. I take my chance and sneak in through a small door on one side of the building. I´m inside but I need to find a way of going unnoticed. I see a wardrobe in a corner. As I open it, I find a collection of bellboy suits. It´s the perfect disguise. I pick one in my size and put it on.

I go up the stairs that lead to the main hall. People come and go without even noticing me. No one is aware of my presence. This place is stunning, it´s so big and beautiful. I reach the top from where I have an amazing view over the entire theater. I´m breathless. It´s majestic. Great pillars rise from the ground and reach as high as the ceiling. The floors are covered with red velvet, there are details in every corner, beautiful paintings and all kinds of luxury, such as you can only imagine in a dream. I´ve never been in a place like this…

People drop in and take their seats. Unlike the multitude on the streets, this one is a silent multitude. While outside they´re yelling, here nobody talks or laughs too loud. Who are these people in faultless suits and shining shoes? I´ve never seen people walking so proud. They resemble demigods more than men. The air smells of all kinds of fragrances and the women´s dresses shine like diamonds. So much wealth can´t do other but to give beauty. I try to imagine Sophie in a dress like that…

The lights turn dim, announcing the beginning of the show. I stop in the middle of a corridor, doing my best to not attract anyone´s attention. I didn´t know they were showing a Charlie Chaplin film and I´m gladly surprised as I see him on the big screen. I love Chaplin. He makes me laugh.

I enjoy the show in silence while my eyes search for Thomas Wayne. There he is, he´s unmistakable. An elegant woman is sitting next to him, surely his wife. I don´t take my eyes off him until I see him get up and head to the restroom. This is my chance. I follow him cautiously.

The bathroom is about ten times the size of my apartment. There´s marble floors and walls, the sinks are decorated with gold and big crystal lamps shine from the ceiling. Eyesight doesn´t adjust to such radiance easily.

There in the back I see Wayne. I stop at the entrance and take off the red suit. I check myself in the mirror and fix my messy hair. Another fancy dressed gentleman walks past me on his way out, leaving me alone with Wayne. Contrasted to such elegance, my own clothes which seemed so appropriate to me when I left the apartment, suddenly seem like rag. My sad face dishonors this place that is filled with smiles. It´s so obvious that I don´t belong here. I´m ashamed of my own image and I feel very small, perhaps even dirty. My presence is an insult to this palace.

Wayne turns around and heads over to the sink. I take a small step towards him but I don´t know what to say.

\- Can I help you, pal?- he asks as he walks by, but without really looking at me.

\- Dou you want an autograph?

\- No…- I say softly.

I stand behind him, keeping a fair distance. I don´t mean to be intrusive. Wayne doesn´t turn around and just watches me through the mirror while he washes his hands.

-Then what is it? What do you want?

I stuff my hands in the pockets of my trousers. My shoulders shrug slightly.

-My- my name is Arthur. My mom is Penny…Penny Fleck. I´m sorry I just showed up like this here, but…she told me everything about you and I…I had to see you…

Wayne remains frozen for a second. I wait to see surprise on his face, to see emotion in his eyes for getting to know his son. But he just stares at me and shakes his head.

-Jesus…I´m not your father, kid.

He finally turns around and looks at me.

-What did you say your name was?

-Arthur, sir. My name´s Arthur. I´m a clown and also a comedian.

I stretch my hand out to him. It´s necessary to introduce ourselves properly. But he slides his own hands into his pockets and eyes me from head to toe.

-And you think that I could be the father of a clown? Hahahaha. Come on, what´s wrong with you?!

I feel a lump in my throat. I wasn´t expecting him to laugh at me… Wayne is tall and handsome and I feel so insecure standing in front of him. But I see familiar features in his face.

-Look at us…- I say shyly –I think you could be.-

He cuts me off right away.

-I´m not your father because you´re adopted and I never slept with your mother.

-I wasn´t adopted.- I reply, completely confused.

Where does he get this absurd idea?

-God, did your mom never tell you? She adopted you while she was working for us.

-No, That´s not true! Why are you saying this?

Wayne´s words produce an awful feeling in my stomach.

-Your mother was delusional. They locked her up in Arkham.

-Stop saying these things!

Anxiety takes hold of me and Wayne is visibly annoyed.

\- WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? IS IT MONEY?

\- I DON´T WANT ANYTHING!- I raise my voice but it also breaks.

\- Maybe just a bit of warmth, _DAD_! How about a hug? A little bit of decency? WHAT IS IT WITH YOU PEOPLE? Look, I don´t mean to make you uncomfortable, I don´t know why everyone is so rude! I just came here to talk to you, but you yell at me and say these awful things about my mother!

-She´s a sick woman, she´s crazy.

-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

-WHAT? Is this some kind of joke to you?!

\- HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA, _please…it´s me, dad_!

And then all of the sudden I feel his fist hitting my face.

-Stay away from me!

It nearly knocks me out and I have to lean against the sink to stay on my feet. Blood runs from my nose just as tears run from my eyes. Wayne leaves. I don´t understand what just happened. Why does he say all these things about mom? Is there any truth in what he´s saying? And if there isn´t, why would he lie to me? I´m so confused… Why does he beat me? I didn´t do anything to him, I didn´t ask for anything, I was trying to be nice…I just wanted to meet my dad. I don´t get people and I certainly don´t get the world either…


	15. Murray s other face

**Murray´s other face**

There´s a commotion outside the building when I get home. An ambulance is stationed at the entrance and a group of paramedics hurries out, pushing a stretcher and yelling at the neighbors and onlookers to move aside. I approach the scene and suddenly I recognize the woman on the stretcher. It´s mom!

\- Wait! That´s my mother! What happened?

\- You´re her son?- one of them asks.

\- Yes.

\- Come with us, quick!

They push me inside the ambulance and I climb in behind mom.

\- What happened?

\- She collapsed. Does she take any medication?

\- No.

I can´t think clearly right now. Everything is happening so fast. The trip to the hospital is short. No one can tell me yet what exactly happened. We enter through the emergency wing and the doctors ask me to wait outside the room. I´m so scared. Several minutes go by and I walk from one side of the corridor to the other until finally one of them comes out and speaks to me.

\- You´re her son, right?

\- Yes, how is my mom?

\- She´s alright for now. But she had a stroke. She´s going to have to stay in the intensive care unit for a few days.

\- What happened to her?

\- We´re not quite sure. It was a police officer who called the ambulance.

The police? I don´t get it. Mom always stays home alone…

\- She needs to rest for a moment, then you can see her.

\- Ok. Thank you, doctor.

I need to smoke.

I head out through the back door and sit down on a bench. I light a cigarette and try to keep myself calm.

-Mr. Fleck?

I look up. Two gentlemen in black coats walk over to me.

\- Yes?

\- Good night- says the chubbier one - I´m detective Garrity, this is my partner, detective Burke.-

Detectives…now everything starts to make sense.

\- We were looking for you at your apartment, but you weren´t home. So we spoke to your mother.

\- What did you say to her? Wait…did you do this?

\- We just asked her some questions. She got hysterical, hyperventilated and fell. She hit her head.

\- The doctor said she had a stroke!

\- We´re really sorry, but as I said, we still have some questions to ask you. It´s about the triple murder that happened on the subway last week.

I try my best to maintain a relaxed posture even though cold sweat is running down my body.

\- Yes, I heard about that. It´s horrible…- I say, focusing on smoking as casually as possible.

\- That´s right.

I don´t look them in the eyes. Now it´s the other officer who speaks to me.

\- We spoke to you boss at HAHA, he said you were fired for bringing a gun to a children´s hospital.

\- It was a prop, it´s part of my act! I´m a party clown.

\- Alright, then why were you fired?

\- They said I wasn´t funny enough…can you believe that? – I reply, upset.

I flick away my cigarette and get up.

-Now if you excuse me, I have to go take care of my mother.

I turn around and head to the door. I need to leave before they ask me some question I can´t answer.

-Your boss also gave us one of your cards.

I stop and turn around.

\- That condition of yours…the laughter, is it real or is it a clown thing?

\- A clown thing?- I ask in disbelief.

\- Is it part of your act?

I don´t know what they want to hear from me, I don´t know what answer is the safest and I decide to reply with another question.

-What do you think?!

I´ve managed to get rid of them for now. They don´t seem to have that many clues. But I can´t relax. They´ll likely come looking for me again.

-Mr. Fleck!

The doctor comes out of the room.

-You can come in now.

I see mom laying in a bed, connected to a ventilator. She´s unconscious. I sit down on a chair next to her and take her hand.

-Mom, it´s me. I´m here…please…you have to get well again.

Her body remains still. Can she hear me? The TV is on, but I pay no attention to it. I hate hospitals. They bring back memories from the time I was hospitalized…or rather locked up. I prefer not to think about that. All the sudden I feel very tired. So many things are happening all at once. I haven´t been taking my pills for several days, I don´t get the help from the therapist anymore, I´ve lost my job, I killed three men and now the police is looking for me…then there´s Thomas Wayne…and now mom´s here…stop! Please! I can´t do this anymore! I just want the world to stop at least for a second and let me breathe. I don´t want to keep fighting anymore. I have no more strength left…

Knock knock.

Someone´s at the door.

-Come in!- I say without even turning around to see. It must be the doctor or a nurse.

I hear footsteps.

-Arthur- whispers a voice close to my ear and a hand sets down on my shoulder.

Only now do I look to my right and see the person standing next to me.

\- Sophie?

It´s Sophie! Her coat is slightly wet from the rain she´s breathing fast, as if she ran part of the way. She drops her bag on the floor and sits down next to me. What kind of magic is hers, that always makes her show up exactly when I need her the most?

-The neighbors told me what happened as soon as I got home. How is she?- she asks, looking worriedly at mom.

-The doctor said she had a stroke.

Sophie rubs my back softly.

-It´s ok, she´s going to be alright…

\- Yes…- I mumble, trying to convince myself rather than her.

We remain silent for several minutes. My eyes linger on mom´s sleeping figure. I´m worried. But Sophie´s hand running slowly up and down my back soothes me. And suddenly I remember that I hadn´t seen her since the…_incident_. I had been avoiding her, too afraid to face her. But now she´s by my side, keeping me company.

\- I´ve been worried about you, Arthur. I came to look for you the other night but you weren´t home.

\- Oh, I´m sorry…I´ve been working late…

I feel terrible about lying to her.

-Arthur…are you alright?- she asks, looking at me with concern.

Sophie´s eyes do something very special. They´re eyes that can caress.

\- Mhm.- I mumble. Even though I don´t think I sound very convincing.

\- Would you like a coffee?- she asks.

\- Yes.

I leave mom alone for a moment while Sophie and I sit at the hospital cafeteria.

Her visit makes me feel better. When she's by my side, everything changes. It's as if there was light between the darkness. A bit of time with her is all that I get. But that's all I need because it's all I can have. We share many cigarettes and a coffee. I had completely forgotten about the notebook I was carrying under my sweater. It´s a bit uncomfortable to keep it there, but as I was on my way to the theater earlier today, I was reading over the things that I had written down, the words that I had wanted to say to Wayne. None of that turned out as I had expected…

\- Arthur?

\- Oh, I´m sorry…I was just thinking about something…never mind.

I take out the notebook and hold it between my hands. I also wrote down some things for Sophie…thoughts I had…things that I´d like to say to her although I would never dare to do so. Her eyes fall on the notebook as well. She seems very curious.

-I´d love to read the jokes you write…

My hands clutch the notebook instinctively, protecting it's content.

-Oh…there's a lot of spelling mistakes. I have a hard time reading and I also don't write too well.

Shame burns on my cheeks, not just because of the spelling, but because of some thoughts, some images contained in the notebook. They´re not appropriate…

-That's ok, Arthur. An artist is like a magician. He must keep his secrets.

Sophie's eyes fall upon another object. A newspaper left on a seat. How long will clown faces be on every front page? Sophie picks it up.

-Do you believe all that shit?- she asks, chuckling - Fuck them. I think the guy who did it is a hero.-

I look at her aghast.

-Three less pricks in Gotham City…- she says, throwing the paper back on the seat. - Only one million more to go…-

I laugh, too. Hero…it's a word that I never thought I´d hear next to my name. And the truth is this: I don´t know how I feel or how I should feel about the incident.

Both of us light another cigarette and share the pleasure of smoking in silence. My mind is still processing the events of the night…Wayne, Wayne…Wayne.

-Sophie…can I ask you something?

-Yes, sure.

\- What happened with Gigi's father? Did he…leave?

Sophie doesn´t say anything.

\- I´m sorry, I shouldn't have asked, it's none of my business. Forgive me.

\- No, it's fine. It's just that…I hadn't thought about that in a long time.

Sophie puts out her cigarette and her eyes linger on the ashtray for a while.

\- Yes, he left before Gigi was born. Now it´s just the two of us…but that´s ok, we´re better off that way.

\- I´m sorry…

\- Don´t worry, Arthur. It's the case of many women, I´m not the first and I sure won´t be the last who goes through this…

I sense how deep Sophie's sadness goes. I feel bad for having caused her pain with this question. I don't want to ask her more, but at the same time I need to. I need to understand…

\- Why do fathers leave? I mean…I understand that mine would leave. But why would someone leave Gigi? She's wonderful! She didn´t do anything wrong…

\- Arthur! You didn´t do anything wrong either! I don´t know your father or his motives, but don´t think that you´re guilty for any of this! If he left you, he´s the one who did something wrong, not you.

\- Who could want a son like me?

\- Arthur, no…don´t say that. You too are wonderful.

Sophie wouldn´t say that if she knew what I did…

Your mom is very lucky to have you. Maybe you´re missing a father, just like Gigi misses hers, but you and your mom are a family, just like Gigi and myself…not all families are the same, or ideal…but as long as you got a loving home, you got all you need.

Sophie takes my hand and rubs it softly with her thumb. Her brown skin contrasts against mine that is so pale. I imagine myself walking by her side, holding hands and intertwining our fingers…like happy people do in the movies…

\- I must go back home- says Sophie after a second coffee and another round of cigarettes - I left Gigi alone. Will you be alright?-

\- Yes, I´ll be fine… Thank you for coming, Sophie…

My eyes follow her until her image gets lost behind the exit door.

I go back to mom´s room. She´s still asleep. Again I sit down on the chair next to her bed. It´s time for Murray´s show. We always watch it together and I want her to watch it with me tonight as well, so I move closer to the bed and take her hand.

Murray is great, he makes me laugh even in moments like this and I hope that mom can feel that way, too.

-_…And finally…in a world where everybody thinks they can do my job, we got a video tape from Pogo´s comedy club with this guy who thinks that if he just keeps laughing, it will somehow make him funny…check out this joker! _

I jump on my feet when I recognize the scene on the video tape.

-_ I hated school as a kid. But my mom would say: Arthur, one day you´ll have to work for living._

_-…Hahahahah you should have listened to your mother…_

Wait! That´s, that´s me! Oh, it can´t be! The video shows me on Pogo´s stage. You can´t see the audience. My eyes are glued to the screen, I laugh and I can´t believe that I´m seeing myself _there_! On Murray´s show!

_-And I´d say: No mom, I´m going to be a comedian! And when I said I was going to be a comedian, everyone laughed at me…well, no one´s laughing now!_

The video is cut off, Murray laughs.

_-You can say that again, pal…_

Hold on…nobody laughed. Is it possible that I was so taken aback at that moment, watching Sophie applaud me, that I didn´t realize that no one, absolutely no one actually laughed? Did I imagine applause and laughter that never existed? I feel as if I´ve been slapped in the face. What´s this video doing on Murray´s show? Murray…Murray is making fun of me by playing it. Murray laughed at me. Every word of his falls on me like a stab. The last piece of hope that I was holding between my hands shatters like glass when it hits the floor and its sharp edges cut a deep wound into the last bit of pride that was left in me. Murray…who´s all I ever want to be…Murray, who I met in a thousand fantasies, who in my mind told me that I also was a great comedian, Murray who held me and told me he wished he had a son like me…Murray…betrayed me…

There´s something called sobering up. I didn´t get the meaning of the word until now. But it feels like when you stop taking your pills. When the effect subsides, when the anesthesia fades away and all that is left is the pain of harsh reality, hitting your face.


	16. Smile

**Smile**

Arkham State Hospital is a dark building in the city center. It's funny how people act against their own instincts. Something tells you to stop but you can't. The need to know the truth seems to be stronger than the instinct of self-preservation.

I head to the window of the registry section and ask to see the file of Penny Fleck. A young fellow kindly helps me out and starts to search for the file amongst the huge shelves filled with dusty folders, all full of stories that ended in one and the same place. I feel uneasy being here.

\- Can I ask you something? How does someone wind up in here?- I ask -Have they all…all the people commited crimes?-

\- Yeah, some have. Some are just crazy, pose dangers to themselves and others. Some just got nowhere else to go, don't know what to do.

\- Yeah, I hear you. Sometimes I don't know what to do. Last time I ended taking it out on some people...I thought it was going to bother me but it really hasn't...

\- What's that?

\- I've fucked up. I've done some bad shit. You know what I'm talking about, it's so hard to just try to be _happy_ all the time...

\- Hey, listen, man...I'm just a clerk. All I do is file paperwork. I don't know what to tell you. But you should see somebody. You know...programs, city services, stuff like that.

\- Yeah...they cut all those!

The man seems uncomfortable.

\- Alright, here it is. Fleck, Penny Fleck. Let's see…

He opens the folder and reads through the first page.

\- Diagnosed by Dr. Benjamin Stoner…the patient suffers from delusional psicosis and narcisistic personality disorder. She was found guilty of endangering the welfare of her...own child...

\- …

\- You said she was your mother? Uhm, I'm sorry, I can't release these records without a signed authorization. If you can bring your mom here to sign, it will be much easier. I can't let this go without a signature, ok? I'm sorry...

I must have that file. I won't leave without it. I seize his brief moment of carelessness and slide my hands through the gap, pull at the folder and manage to snap it from his hands.

\- HEY! Come back!

I sprint through the hospital corridor, I find an emergency exit and escape through the stairway. I run as fast as I can and stop only when I can't hear any more footsteps behind my back. I catch my breath and then I open it. It's so many pages. My eyes run across the words.

_**Patient: Penny Fleck…**_

**_Extremely bizarre behavior… physical_**_** abuse... **_

What's all this? There's so many words that I don't know, that I don't understand. I turn a few pages.

**_"ADOPTION APPLICATION"_**

My heartbeat stops. I feel like the air has been stolen from my lungs.

**_Parents unknown…_** _**child**_**_ was abandoned…_**

Adopted? Then…Wayne was telling the truth. An awful sensation builds up in my stomach. My legs feel weak and I have to lean against the wall to keep myself from falling. I can already feel the laughter coming. My real parents abandoned me when I was only a baby? Who were they? It doesn't say. Why did they leave me? It doesn't say either. They didn't want me. Penny…why did you never tell me? You lied to me, Penny! Everything you told me was a lie!

My hands turn the remaining pages of the file. Attached to the adoption application is something that looks like the transcript of a dialogue between Penny and the doctor who was seeing her. As I read through it, it feels like I'm actually there, watching a young version of Penny in a white robe and a lost look on her face, speaking to the doctor.

\- _We went over this,_ _Penny. You_ _adopted him…_

\- _That's not true._ _Thomas made it all up…_

_\- You also stood by when one of your boyfriends repeatedly abused your adopted son...and battered you_.

_\- …_

_\- Penny, your son was found tied to a radiator in your filthy apartment, malnourished, with multiple bruises across his body and severe trauma to his head. _

_\- I never heard him cry...he's always been such a happy little boy…_

Laughter bursts out of my throat, getting louder and louder. No...this can't be real...

-HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA

Penny allowed them to hurt me! Why did she not protect me? Where was she?

-HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA

There's a press cutting attached to the papers. It shows the image of a small boy. Is that...is that me?

_**"Mother of adopted child allowed her **_**_son's abuse" _**

**_"House of terror for a mother and her son"_**

Tears stream down my cheeks, blurring my sight. I wipe my nose with my sleeve but to no avail. I can't stop crying. I don't want to read no more. But the memories rebel and all the sudden come back to me like an avalanche. Everything that I thought I had managed to erase from my mind suddenly reappears like a ghost and becomes real. So real. I feel like I'm back there, in that awful place.

_I'm once again a little boy in that ugly, dark apartment. I'm maybe seven or eight years old. I'm not sure. I only know that I'm scared. I hear the voice of a man yelling in my mother's bedroom and I hear her crying. I'm standing behind the door, hugging my clown toy. Mom gave it to me for my birthday and I take it with me wherever I go. There's punches and more screams. I'm so frightened and I run and hide under the table, covering my ears with my hands so that I don't hear. Then everything stops and I can no longer hear them. The bedroom door opens and he shows up. I can see his shoes from under the_ _tablecloth_.

_-Arthur! Where's my boy?_

I hug my knees, trying to somehow hide myself. But he finds me.

_-What are you doing there? Come with me._

_I don't trust him. He frightens me so much. I try to hide away in a corner. But he grabs my arms and pulls me out of my hiding place. I hide my face in my clown toy and start crying. When the man sees me, he slaps me and snaps the toy from my hands. _

_\- If you cry, you won't be seeing this damn toy ever again!_

_\- No! Please! Give it back to me…_

_I reach for my clown but the man laughs and hits me again. This time I land on the floor. My entire body is shaking. Where are you, mom? Help me! But mom doesn't come. The_ _man's fingers dig into my small arms and he shakes me vioently. _

_\- Laugh, come on, laugh! Laugh like this clown!_

_I try to do as he says and between the sobs, I force a small laughter._

_-That's it! Laugh! Laugh harder!_

_I laugh and cry at the same time. I don't know what he wants from me, I only want him to let me go. Suddenly his arms lift me up and he tosses me on the couch. He grabs me by the wrists and holds me still. I can't possibly defend myself. He is too strong. And while he unbuckles his belt and pills down the zipper of his trouser, I can't do anything but crying. _

_\- Come on, your mother will be sad if she hears you cry. You don't want to see her sad, do you, Arthur?!_

_\- No, sir…_

_-Then laugh! I SAID LAUGH! _

_I feel the weight of his body on top of mine, I feel a terrible pain, I hear my own screams and then my sight blurrs and everything becomes dark around me. _

I bend over. Between the laughter that crawls up my throat, I dry heave and throw up what little I had in my stomach. I feel as if the paper in my hands was corroding my skin and yet I hold onto the folder as if my life depended on it.

Why, Penny? Why did you allow this to be done to me?

I laugh so hard that I lose my breath. My throat burns, it feels like I've swallowed pieces of glass and they're cutting me from inside. Tears fall from my eyes and run down my face non stop. Nothing I do, whether it's laughing or crying, gives relief to the pain I'm feeling.

I've got to get out of this place.

I walk the streets hugging the folder to my chest, my face wet, laughing and sobbing. I don't even try to wipe away my tears anymore and I don't mind the looks people give me. It's as if I was in a different dimension than everyone else. Time comes to a halt. The world has stopped turning for me.

A song I heard somewhere echoes inside my head.

_Smile, though your heart is aching_...

I pass the same place from where I just came. I think I'm walking in circles, but I don't know for sure. And I realize that I have nowhere to go. I don't have a home to go back to anymore... I don't have anything. I'm alone. My sight is blurred. I don't understand how I haven't run out of tears yet.

_Smile, even though it's breaking_...

A body can't contain so much pain. The cracks finally break and I feel that inside I'm bleeding out. My chest ends up breaking. I can't stand on my feet anymore and I fall on my knees in the middle of the sidewalk. I can take no more. My body convulses in silent crying. A time comes when one no longer cries with the eyes, but with the soul.

_When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by if you smile_...

_Through your fear and sorrow...smile..._

_And maybe tomorrow you'll see the sun come shining through for you. _

People pass and nobody seems to mind seeing and adult fallen on the ground, crying like a child. I look up to the sky, covered in black clouds. How can there even be a sun behind all that darkness? God, if you are there, watching me from your height, tell me...why did you put me in this world? This world that never wanted me.

_Light up your face with gladness, hide every trace of sadness... _

I thought that my purpose was to bring joy and laughter to people...but I don't know how to smile anymore...I only feel pain in every corner of my body. My heart is wrapped in thorns.

_Although a tear may be ever so near, that's the time you must keep on trying. Smile!_

_What's the use of crying?_

_You'll find that life is still worthwhile...if you just smile..._

The wind blows, sweeping the fallen leaves on its way. A little brown bird flies over and lands on the sidewalk, just a few inches away from my hand. It remains still for a second and seems to look at me. I imagine it's him who sings to me.

_Smile, though your heart is aching..._

_Smile, even though it's breaking... _

But when I reach out my hand to touch it, it scares and flies away. I wish I was like you, so I could have wings and fly far away from here...from this place of sorrow and suffering.

I am condemned, a walking dead. They teared off my lungs and yet I keep breathing. They mutilated my heart and still it refuses to stop beating. I'm trapped in this stubborn body that holds on to life. I wish I had never been born...


	17. Between the light and the shadow

**Between the light and the shadow**

The apartment is dark and in absolute silence. I feel like my clothes are impregnated with today´s events. I tear them off my body and toss them into a corner, leaving only my underwear on. I throw the folder into another corner as if by shoving it away I could undo all the damage it has done to me. I drop myself on the couch and try to sleep. But when the lights go off there are voices that speak to me and torment me. They disappear when I switch on the lamp, but then I´m invaded by the fear of silence. It seems illogical, but silence isn´t mute, it has a voice. No matter what I do, the night doesn´t leave me at peace.

-HAHAHAAHHAHAHAHHAHHAHA

My laughter is louder and more painful tan ever.

-SHUT UP!- yells the neighbor from above.

I don´t even know who lives there…

I walk back and forth, I lean against the kitchen wall and slide down until I´m sitting on the floor. I´m losing my connection to reality. I feel like I´m falling freely into a void. There´s nothing that can catch me, nothing that can save me. The scenes repeat themselves over and over again in front of my eyes like a horror movie and no matter how hard I try, I can´t stop them. I don´t want this anymore! Please! I start hitting my head against the wall to make my mind shut up. There´s so much noise in here! I want it to stop, I want it to stop!

But I achieve nothing. And then my eyes fall on the fridge. To freeze the thoughts, to freeze the feelings. That´s it! I open the door and start emptying the contents, tossing aside the shelves and whatever foods I find until there's enough space to fit my body.

After closing the door, everything goes absolutely dark, I can´t see anything. I shake for several minutes until my body yields to the cold and begins to go numb. The same thing happens to my thoughts. Time seems to stop, my heartbeat slows down until I can barely feel it. I don´t hear anything, I don´t feel anything…is this what it feels like to die?

Something brings me vaguely back to conscience. Everything is still dark, I don´t feel my body, but I believe I can hear something in the distance…a voice…it seems to come from far, far away.

-_Arthur?_

Who is it? I know that voice.

-_Arthur, you left the door open! _

The voice comes closer, but where is it? Where am I? I hear noises and footsteps nearing.

-_Arthur!_

And suddenly…everything lights up! A shining light hits my eyelids and I slowly open my eyes. I´m disorientated.

-Arthur!

-S-Sophie?- I mumble.

My eyes adjust to the light and then I make out Sophie´s features.

-Arthur, what are you doing here?- she asks, thunderstruck.

My lips tremble and I´m unable to speak. Sophie takes my hand.

-Come.

I take a step outside but I can barely feel my legs. My knees give in and I fall into Sophie´s arms who stops me from hitting the floor. She lifts me from under my armpits and I lean on her shoulders. Even though I´m so skinny, my body is still too heavy for her. I don´t know how she manages to guide me all the way to the living room where my legs finally surrender and I fall on the couch in a sitting position. The apartment is spinning, the ground moves underneath my feet. What happened? I feel Sophie´s hands on my naked arms. Where are my clothes?

-You´re freezing, Arthur. How long have you been in there?

I don´t know. I´m confused. I can´t speak. My eyes get lost on a random spot on the floor. It´s as if my body was separated from my thoughts.

Sophie puts her fingers on my wrist and takes my pulse.

-Oh my God…

Under the pillow on which I sleep on this very same couch is a red shirt I wear to bed sometimes. Sophie finds it and unbuttons it.

-Let me put this on you…

She helps me dress, guiding my arms through the sleeves. Then she takes the blanket I sleep with at night, puts it around my shoulders and rubs my arms to warm my body. Suddenly my arms and legs start to feel again and I begin to shiver with cold. My head aches and I remember hitting myself earlier. I remember the fridge. I see the folder from the hospital on the floor and then I remember everything clearly.

-Arthur…what happened? Why where you there?

I look up and search desperately for her eyes. Sophie is kneeling on the carpet in front of me, looking at me with concern and waiting for answers. I want to reply but my numb lips can´t form a single word.

\- Did someone hurt you?

\- …

\- Arthur, talk to me…please, say something.

\- I-I…

I can´t. I can´t breathe, I feel like I´m drowning.

-Breathe. Breathe with me.- says Sophie, taking my hands.

She breathes in and out slowly and I try to do the same. It takes me a while until I catch my breath again and when I finally bring myself to speak, my voice sounds like that of a ghost.

\- I had a bad day…

My eyes wander to the file on the floor. Sophie follows them and she sees it, too.

-Does it have anything to do with this?- she asks, picking up the folder without letting go of my hand.

-Mhm.

I take my eyes away from that thing as if it was the devil itself.

-It´s alright…don´t worry. I won´t open it if you don´t want me to.

I hesitate for a moment, but with a gesture I let her know that it´s ok if she opens it, for I have no courage to reproduce the contents with my own words. I wouldn´t even know where to start.

Sophie lets go of my hand and carefully opens the folder. Her lips move, forming silent words as she reads. My legs begin to shake.

\- Hahahaha.

My laughing starts softly and escalates as Sophie turns the pages. Her eyes become glassy and I see that she´s holding her breath. I look down. I can´t look at her.

-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

\- Holy God…

Sophie closes the folder and leaves it on the floor. She puts her hands on my knees. When I finally dare to look up, I see a tear rolling down her cheek. She´s like a mirror in which I see all of my pain reflected and tears begin to fall from my own eyes, multiplying hers.

\- Arthur…- Sophie whispers with a voice so soft that is fades - Arthur…for the love of God, what did they do to you…?-

\- I…- I begin in between sobs - I had a stuffed toy, a little clown…-

It´s hard to form any words.

-And one day… my mother´s boyfriend took it away from me.

Sophie´s hands rub my knees as I speak. And I go on.

-He said…he said if I cried, I would never see it again. And then he…he…HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…

My laughter fades and only the crying remains.

And upon seeing me heartbroken, Sophie does something I did not expect. She takes me in her arms. She holds my shaking body firmly and gently, and she lets me cry on her shoulder. I cry in pain and in surprise, for I believed that after knowing what they did to me, Sophie would never want to touch me again. I cry because it´s the first time that someone hugs me, I cry because in her arms I feel human. I cry because of her touch that is the cure, and because of the truth that is the wound. I cry until my tears have entirely soaked her blouse.

She strokes my back with one hand and my head with the other.

\- Shhhh, it´s ok…- she whispers in my ear - Nobody will ever again hurt you…-

Sophie´s arms hold me tighter. Our bodies intertwine and I can feel her heartbeat.

\- Why d-did she allow those things to be d-done to me? She let them t-turn me into this…into this thing…

\- Arthur… how I wish I could lend you my eyes…so you would see what I see.

Sophie carefully separates me from her shoulder and lifts my chin but her face looks blurry through my tears. She wipes my face with the sleeve of her blouse. First she dries my eyes and after blinking a few times, I can see her face clearly. She wipes one cheek and the other and then my nose.

\- The pain will go away. You´ll see that one day you´ll smile again…and there will be no more reasons to cry.

And then Sophie cups my face with her hands and she kisses my forehead. I close my eyes and a sigh comes out of my chest. A feeling impossible to put into words invades every corner of my body. Is this what people call _love_?

All I can do is watch her and let the comfort of her touch wash over me in silence. I don´t know how much time goes by like this. Time is so relative… The cold that I felt before has transformed into a warm sensation. I'm no longer shivering. And for the first time in several days, I feel sleepy.

\- Your beautiful eyes are closing…- says Sophie - Come, you need to rest.-

She gets up, takes my hand and guides me to the bedroom. I sit down on the bed, not knowing what to do. I don´t usually sleep here. I´ve always slept on the couch.

-Come on, lay down.- says Sophie, moving the blanket aside.

My body feels so heavy, I have no strength to remain seated. So I drop myself on the pillow but I don´t take my eyes away from Sophie for a single second. They feel tired after so much crying and I can barely keep them open. But I fear that if I close them and open them again, Sophie will be gone. She sits on the side of the bed and pulls the blanket over my body up to my waist. Her eyes watch me in silence and she rubs my forearm with her hand, waiting for me to fall asleep. I can no longer tell where reality ends and where dreams begin.

-Sophie…are you real?

She frowns with concern, pushes my hair back and feels my forhead.

-You have a fever, Arthur…

Then Sophie must be a hallucination. She seems so real and at times so impossible. She seems to come from a different world, a world of illusion where there´s no pain or sorrow…and where people are kind.

-You´ll be alright, sweetheart. Everything´s going to be alright…- she whispers, softly brushing her fingers across my cheeks.

I convince myself that she is a mirage, a beautiful fantasy created by my tormented mind. But this mirage speaks to me with a clear voice. This mirage that resembles an angel, and nonetheless has the hands of a woman, comes to me and sits by my side. And those hands touch me, those lips kiss me and that heart loves me.

If it´s an illusion, let it be so. Why can´t I stay in this small place in my imagination where someone loves me and takes care of me? What´s wrong with living in a world of dreams to not die of reality?

And then Sophie leans over me and presses her lips to mine. They´re soft and warm and her kiss is as gentle as the touch of a butterfly´s wing. A tear runs down my cheek. My lips form a half smile and I thank my mind for creating this moment for me.

\- Don´t cry…- says Sophie - Tomorrow will be another day… and you will feel better.-

\- Don´t go…please, don´t leave me alone…I want to keep dreaming about you.

\- Don´t worry, Arthur. I´ll stay by your side until you´ve fallen asleep.

But ain´t I already sleeping?

Sophie puts her hand on my chest, just above the heart and her beautiful voice sings to me softly.

_\- I wanted you to know that I love the way you laugh…I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away…_

_The worst is over now and we can breathe again…I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away… _

_There´s so much left to learn and no one left to fight…I wanna hold you high and steal your pain… _

Sophie moves her hands to her head and she loosens the blue strip that holds her hair. Of all the colors she wears, this one is my favorite. She takes my left hand and ties the strip around my wrist.

-When you wake up and see this, you'll know that everything was real, _that I am real…and that I love you.._

**NOTE: The lyrics from Sophie´s song belong to Seether and Amy Lee (Broken).**


	18. The end of the innocence

**The end of the innocence**

In the morning a soft ray of light kisses my face. I wake up with a foggy brain. What am I doing in this bed? I kick off the blankets. My shirt is drenched in sweat. I´m not sure if I dreamed last night or if I slept peacefully for the first time in weeks. I try to capture the moment that slips away like water through my hands. And I think about all of the things that I want to believe in.

The phone rings, calling me back to reality. I fear it´s those detectives again. So I let it ring until the answering machine goes on.

_\- Hi, this message is for Arthur Fleck. My name is Shirley Woods, I work on the Murray Franklin Show. I don´t know if you´re aware, but Murray played a clip of your standup on the show recently and we´ve gotten an amazing response from our viewers. Murray asked me to give you a call and see if you´re…_

I get up. I answer.

\- Who is this?

\- Oh, hi, this is Shirley Woods. I´m the show booker from Live with Murray Franklin. Is this Arthur?

\- Yes…?

\- Hi, Arthur. Well, as I was saying…we have gotten a lot of calls about your clip. Amazing responses. And Murray asked if I would reach out to you and see if you would come on as his guest.

What? This can´t be happening. Murray wants me on his show? I probably still have a fever. I squeeze my arm and touch my forehead. I need to know if this is happening or if I´m imagining it.

\- Murray wants me on the Murray Franklin Show?

\- Yeah, isn´t that great? He´d love to talk to you…maybe do some of your act? That sounds good to you?

\- Yeah…that sounds great...

\- Can we set up a date right now? Are you available next Thursday?

I don´t know what all this is about. Another delusion? I´ve stopped taking my medication for several days now. It might be affecting me. I´m walking down that line that divides me somewhere inside my head. There´s an edge on the borderlines where everything is dubious, everything is blurry but real. Hahahahaha, this is insane…me on the Murray Franklin Show. I shall be there.

The hospital room is bathed in light. It´s the first sunny day in Gotham in a long, long time. The shirt that Sophie put on me last night, or I put on myself, I don´t know, I still have it on. I´m sitting by the window and watch Penny´s motionless figure as I smoke. I don´t mind smoking in this place. To be honest, I don´t give a damn about anything anymore. At times she blinks and seems to awaken, but falls back asleep.

Hahahahaha, Penny…I´m going to tell you a story. A long, long time ago…there was something that used to make me smile. And I knew if I had a chance to make people laugh, maybe I could make them happy. Remember what you used to tell me? That my purpose was to bring joy and laughter to the world? I can´t remember if I cried when I read that script at Arkham…it was a fabulous comedy, you know? A great script. I laughed so hard I think I died.

\- Hahahahaha.

I light another cigarette, filling the room with smoke. Does it bother you that I smoke in here? Well fuck off, Penny. Go to hell!

Penny awakes. Her eyes open and she recognizes me.

\- Hey Penny…Penny Fleck…I always hated that name…

I don´t need to tell her any more tan that. I don´t need to pronounce words at all. My eyes, they say everything. And if they could speak, they would scream!

I hated that name since I was little and I never knew why. But now I do. Now I see everything clearly. Penny… I can´t remember that you ever celebrated a birthday or Christmas for me. I can´t remember you taking me to a playground or reading a story to me before putting me to bed…you only ever had time for your boyfriends. All those awful men who hurt you, you loved them? Is that what love looks like? One day you brought that man home, you let him stay with us and you invited him to your bed while I had to sleep on the couch. That man who hurt me and made me cry. He took my only toy from me. And you preferred to look the other way…

How come you didn´t see the wounds on my body when you bathed me? Didn´t you see the blood on my clothes when you changed me? _\- You fell, Happy. You must be more careful when you play…-_ that´s what you used to say. You fooled yourself. And how well you did it. PENNY! That man beat me, he tied my hands to the radiator and left me there for days, cold and hungry! I was only a little boy! You destroyed my childhood! HOW COULD YOU ALLOW IT?

And now that I´m grown up…don´t you see me come home tired and beaten, shaking with cold? No. You never ask me how I am, how my day was. You see me sad and you never hug me, never give me a kiss. You think because you´re sick, the world revolves around you? Well I´m sick, too! I suffer as well! All my life I slept on the couch so that you could be comfortable! How fitting it was for you that I had forgotten everything. Oh, Penny, you committed the worst treason of all! You took advantage of the fact that I loved you!

You only think about yourself, yourself and Thomas Wayne. And if you´re saying the truth and Wayne is in fact my father, what changes? Nothing changes. Maybe he is my father and he abandoned me. But the one who let them hurt me was you. You´re just like him. You lie. You´ve always lied. I should´ve read between your lines, Penny…

\- You know how you used to tell me that my laugh was a condition? That there was something wrong with me? There isn´t. That´s the real me.

Smile and put on a happy face…That´s what you used to tell me, remember? Hahahahahahaha. Hide your pain behind a mask…disguise your tears between your laughter…that´s what you taught me. Instead of helping me, you forced a smile on me.

\- Happy…- says Penny in a weak voice, as if she had just heard all of my silent accusations.

Hahahaha…_Happy_…that goddamn name you gave me. You manipulated me to ease your own conscience, to wash the guilt from your hands. I was a puppet on a lonely string, a string to which you chained me. You turned me into this jester. You never heard me cry? No? Well, I did it every day. And I still do. If I don´t cry on the outside, I cry on the inside, but I cry every fucking day of my godforsaken existence.

\- Happy…hahaha. I haven´t been happy one minute of my entire fucking life.

I get up and walk over to her bed.

I don´t want to hear you anymore. Everyone´s got a story to tell, ain´t that so? Well…you´ve had your chance to tell yours and there was never, never an honest word. Now it´s my turn. You know how they say that fire is the devil´s only friend? Well, the only friend of a clown is the laughter. I hope you like my joke…you´ll see that even Satan will have a good laugh at it...

I take the pillow, letting her head drop on the mattress.

\- You know what´s funny? You know what really makes me laugh? I used to think that my life was a tragedy...but now I realize it´s a fucking comedy.

I press the pillow onto her face. I don´t even blink. I do it with ease and cold-bloodedly. Her resistance is weak and silent and it doesn´t take more than a minute until she fades…Penny is gone.

Killing is good and by no means hard. This is where the scale is finally balanced. If I have paid my dues and served my time, here is then the crime that was missing to justify that life sentence to which I was subjected the moment I was born.

I drop the pillow and lean against the window frame. A ray of light shines through the curtains and falls on my face. There´s a different taste on my lips. I can´t explain it, but I feel it…I know it. This is the end of the innocence…


	19. The final fantasy

**The final fantasy**

Outside the air is fresh. The morning is nice for a walk. The sun that hadn´t come out in Gotham for so long now shyly peeks through the clouds and softly warms my body. I take off my sweater and roll up the sleeves of my shirt. What´s this? There´s a blue strip around my wrist. Where did it come from? I´ve seen it before somewhere…_Sophie!_ This belongs to her…doesn´t it? How come I have it? I start to run and I run as fast as I can. I don´t even call the elevator, I run up the stairs and stop in front of apartment 8B. I knock on the door desperately. Nothing. I knock again. Sophie, please, open up…Sophie, help me! I need you!

I walk back to my own apartment. Inside the bedroom, the sheets are still a mess. I slept here. It was Sophie who brought me all the way here, right? I see myself in the mirror on the small table where Penny used to paint her lips. I never understood why she did it. Her things.. they´re all still there. I open the top drawer and find some old magazines, her lipstick, an empty bottle of perfume. I open the second drawer…and my heart stops. Its full of handkerchiefs.

\- NO!- I shout – It can´t be!-

I empty the entire content of the drawer on the bed. There´s at least twenty of those, if not more. There´s handkerchiefs in all colors, red, green, white… they all reek of Penny´s cheap perfume. Angry tears sting in my eyes.

\- I hate you, Penny!

I sit and inspect the blue strip I´m wearing, proving its existence. I take it off my wrist and unfold it into its original form, a handkerchief. I look at every detail, I touch it, feel it, inhale its scent. It´s not like the others, is it? The smell is different. Sophie, is it you? Tell me that it´s you …

\- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

I´m sure my laughter can be heard ten miles away. I rub my cheek against the cloth. Sophie… tell me it´s you! My tears soak the fabric. Sophie…don´t leave me alone! You´re all I got left!

It´s impossible to tie the strip back onto my wrist. I can´t do it with just one hand. So I carefully fold it and stuff it in the pocket of my shirt, right on top of my heart.

I exit the bedroom and slam the door. I look for my notebook and tear out a blank page. There´s still a leftover piece from the last page I tore out. I made a paper flower for Sophie with that one…or at least, I thought I did…

You really are a great comedian, Arthur. You believed your own story. Now you must laugh at your own joke!

\- HAHAHAHAHAHHAHA

Once my laughter dies out I take the pen and start writing a letter. Look at me, Penny, I´m just like you, writing a letter to someone who will never reply.

The light of noon shines in the room. I pick up my notebook one more time. In all my nights at Pogo´s, I´ve learned a thing or two.

**_Eye contact._**

**_Slick hair?_**

**_Work the crowd._**

I´m reminded of the suit one of the comedians there was wearing. I search through my stuff and find something similar. It´s a wine colored suit, trousers and vest. It´s somewhat bleached but still elegant. Under the vest I put on my only white shirt. This one is also worn out, but the ensemble works. I polish my shoes and slick back my hair. Now I really look like a comedian.

Among the few treasures I own, there´s a white mug with a logo from the Murray Franklin Show I painted myself, trying to recreate the mugs Murray keeps on his desk where he welcomes his guests. I place it on the coffee table to create a similar setting. Then there´s the tapes from the show. I own at least thirty of them. I sit in front of the TV and randomly pick out one. Oh, yes. I remember this episode, it´s one of my favorites. The guest was an actor, Ethan Chase. I watch his entrance, the way he greets the audience and Murray… I study the way he sits, smiles and speaks…

How can I do the same? How can I act like a normal person? I rewind the tape all the way back to the beginning and let it play again. I get up, walk out the living room and upon hearing the welcome music, I make my great entrance. There it is again, my invisible audience. They welcome me with a warm applause. I greet them soberly and slightly bow. I walk towards Murray and shake his hand. We greet each other and I also greet the other two guests sitting at my side. I sit down on the spot next to Murray, lean back and spread my arms out on the back of the couch.

\- Hey Murray, thanks so much for hav…

No, no. Again.

\- Hey Murray, thanks so much for having me on the show. It´s been a life long dream of mine…

No, no, no.

\- Hey Murray, I´ve been a…

No, not like that. I don´t know… How do I sit? Legs spread open? Crossed? Like this? Or closed? Do I lean back? What should I do with my hands?

\- I´m sorry, what´s that?...Oh, that´s very funny, Murray! You know, I´m also a comedian. Would you like to hear a joke?

Everyone claps.

\- Yeah? All of you? Ok!...Knock, knock…

I draw the gun and point it at my throat.

No, again. It needs to be quicker.

\- Hahahaha…Knock, knock…

I point the gun to my throat. Click.

Hahahahahahhahaaha! This is it! And I hear the closing song that plays at the end of every episode._That´s life…_

What a great ending! Applause, applause and more applause!This is going to be the best joke I have ever told.

I relax on the couch and light a cigarette. I´m ready. My big moment has finally come. For once I´ll be what I was always meant to be.

My eyes fall once again on the paper sheet I left on the table. My last words for Sophie.

**_Sophie, _**

**_I woke up with a blue strip around my wrist. I think I´ve seen it in your hair. I think I had a dream, I dreamed that you loved me. Forgive me. I confuse what is real. Your ghost haunts me. _**

**_I´m so tired of being here. This body is just so heavy. There´s a hole in my soul that´s been there for all my life. Like a garden that never blooms. I am not a hero, I am not even a man…I´m just a shadow. I´m the thorn without the rose. All I have to offer is my pain. I know you can´t be real. Because you couldn´t love me. And still I love you. Why can´t someone love an illusion? Why can I not say goodbye to the best dream I ever had? _**

**_There is no turning back. These wounds won´t heal. There´s things that time can simply not erase. Life claims a piece of our soul every day until there´s nothing more left. Forgive me for what I´ve done and for what I´m about to do. But there is no place or purpose for me in this world. I just want to be great for one moment before I die. I want people to see me, just for once. The time has come for the final act of this comedy. There´s one final fantasy left before the curtain closes forever._**

**_I just hope that when I´m finally asleep, I see you again in that place of dreams where you were real. I need to know that you´ll find me. There, everything will be different. There will be no more pain. I will laugh a genuine laughter, I will be a man like all others and then you can finally love me. _**

**_Arthur_**


	20. Sympathy for the devil

**Sympathy for the devil**

_That´s life…that´s what all the people say..._

_You´re riding high in April, shot down in May…_

_But I know I´m gonna change that tune when I´m back on top, back on top in June…_

Green, that´s what the hair of my clown was like. Well then, mine shall be so, too! I paint my hair green. The color splashes against the walls, the mirror and the sink. The drops of paint run down my naked torso, leaving green trails on my skin. There´s something in me that awakens beneath the Surface, it consumes me and takes hold of me. Not against my will, I stand beside my own reflection once more.

_I said, that´s life…_

_And as funny as it may seem, some people get their kicks…_

_Stomping on a dream…_

There´s music streaming through the blood that runs in my veins… you don´t hear music with the ears, you feel it in the bones…it vibrates! And today I feel it stronger than ever, it´s not a lonely melody anymore, it´s an entire orchestra! How is it that no one else can perceive it?

_But I don´t let it…let it get me down…_

_´Cause this fine old world…it keeps spinning around…_

With Penny gone, the apartment belongs only to me. I toss her things on the floor and with a cigarette between my fingers I sit down in front of the mirror in the bedroom. That useless mirror where she used to do her makeup for the boyfriends she no longer had. I slick my hair back and with a brush I apply a layer of white paint all over my face, including my tongue. I separate from this face I knew, for it´s not truly mine. I divorce from everything that contained me. Nobody, not even myself would recognize me. But this is my real skin.

The sun is setting. The clock takes life from me but pushes me closer to my big moment. I feel like I´m awakening from a long dream. I´ve been sitting in the shadows, living for tomorrow, but I won´t sit here and wait for a miracle no more. I´m not going to be a background noise. I want to go out and play with the storm. Whatever comes, I´m leaving it all to chance. Whatever the outcome is, my finest hour still awaits me!

_I´ve been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king…_

This is what I really am! I´ve always been at the bottom, down, on the lowest of the stairs. I´ve been stepped on by everyone. But now I´m at the top and I sit on the throne like the king of the wretched, the king of all clowns! I´m strong like a storm, elegant like the night and great like the end of the fucking world!

Someone knocks on the door. It can only be those detectives. They knock again. I cannot let them get me, not now that I´m so close. But there´s a problem, I only have one bullet left in the gun and it´s for myself. I need some other weapon. I search the drawers on my left and find a pair of scissors. I check if they´re sharp and stuff them in my pants. But when I open the door I find something unexpected. It´s Randall and Gary. What are they doing here?

\- Hey Arthur- says Gary - How´s it going?-

\- Oh, hey guys!- I say, a little surprised -Come on in!-

\- You got a new gig?- Gary asks.

\- No…

\- Oh you must be going down to that rally at City Hall. I heard it´s going to be nuts.- says Randall.

\- Was that today?- I ask. I had no idea, honestly.

\- Yes.- Randall replies and looks at me in confusion - What´s with the makeup then?-

I lean relaxingly against the wall and keep on smoking.

\- My mom died…I´m celebrating…

\- Right…we heard… that´s why we came by. I figured you could use some cheering up. - says Randall, pointing to the bottle in Gary´s hands.

\- Oh, that´s sweet…but no! I feel good. I stopped taking my medication. I feel a lot better now.

\- Oh, OK. Good for you...- says Randall –So, hey listen…I don´t know if you Heard, but the cops have been coming around the shop, talking to all the guys about the subway murders…-

I put my cigarette out on the wall.

\- They didn´t talk to me…- Gary throws in.

\- That´s because the suspect was a regular sized person. If it was a fucking midget, you´d be in jail right now!- says Randall.

\- Hahahahaha- I fake laughing at his joke.

\- Anyway…- Randall continues - Hoyt said that they talked to you and now they´re looking for me. I just wanna know what you said, make sure our stories line up, you know? So they see how you´re my boy and …-

I don´t hear what he says after that. Randall…it was him who gave me that gun, made me lose my job and turned me into a murderer.

\- Why do you worry so much, Randall?- I say, taking a step towards him.

It always seemed to me that he was much bigger than myself, he seemed intimidating. But now he doesn´t seem like that anymore. I feel like I´m his same size. Maybe it´s because I´m standing tall, I lift my head and look him straight in the eyes. I´m no longer afraid of you, Randall.

\- It wasn´t you who shot the first one when he beat you, killing him with one single shot. You didn´t take down the second one with two bullets in the chest. It wasn´t you who hit the third one in the leg and chased him down the train station, emptying the gun when you shot him in the back. It wasn´t you …right?

And with the speed of lightning, I take the scissors and stab Randall in the neck. It all happens very fast. Randall´s blood splashes on my face when I stab him the second time, now through his left eye. I throw myself on his huge body and Randall falls to the ground. I hear his screams and Gary´s in the background.

I´m not your fucking _boy_, Randall! Now I understand why you always scared me, why I hated you so much. You´re just like him! You wanted to do the same to me, right?! But now you can´t touch me anymore! I take his head with both hands and smash it against the wall again and again and again. Fucking burn in hell! I will do so, too, of that I´m sure. And when I find you there, I will kill you a second time, that I swear to you with the Devil as my witness! The punches sound like drums, his skull breaks, Randall is dead.

His body falls to the floor and I remain seated there…next to his corpse. My breathing is erratic, my heart beats so loud. I´m covered in blood. This is the fifth one…

\- Arthur! No! Why would you do that?

Only now I notice Gary screaming. He´s hiding in a corner, terrified.

\- You watch the Murray Franklin Show?- I ask. Gary doesn´t answer.

\- Yeah? I´m gonna be on it, tonight! It´s fucking crazy, isn´t it? Me on the telly…

\- What the fuck, Arthur?- says Gary looking at Randall´s body.

\- WHAT?!

I don´t get what the problem is. Oh, right…

\- It´s OK, Gary. You can go. I´m not gonna hurt you.

I wouldn´t hurt Gary. He never did me any wrong. He was kind when everyone else was cruel. Gary approaches the scene cautiously, crying as he sees the disaster that Randall left behind.

\- Don´t look. Just go.

He passes by my side quickly and heads to the door, trying not to look at all the blood.

\- A-Arthur…can you g-get the lock?- he asks, frightened.

Hahahahahaha. I forgot. Gary can´t reach the lock. When I walk over to help him out, he flinches, as if he feared I could kill him, too. I open the door, but I stop Gary for a second.

\- Gary…- I say.

\- Mmm?

\- You´re the only one who was ever nice to me …

I kiss the top of his head.

\- Get out of here.

My hands and feet, my face… Randall´s blood is everywhere. I will have to do my whole makeup again. But first I need a bath. I fill the bathtub and submerge my body in the hot water. I light a cigarette and watch in awe the way the smoke merges with the steam and the blood mixes with the water. I wash myself, removing Randall from my hands and feet. I touch my face and my fingers get stained with red again. It´s an intense red like the paint I use to draw my clown smile. My hands shake as I bring them to my lips and with the tip of my tongue I taste Randall´s blood. It has a metallic taste, like the bars in the cells of hell.

\- HAHAHAHAHA!

The ashtray is full and the bathtub is painted in scarlet. It´s a piece of art. You wanted so badly to touch me, Randall…always trying to get your dirty hands on me…look at us now! I´m bathing in you!

\- HAHAHAHAHAHA!

The water cools down, my body is clean. I remove the cap and the level of the water starts to sink. I watch Randall disappear down the pipe that leads to the sewer…where the rats dwell, the last stop before hell. Hahahahaha! The devil enjoys himself! And how he must be amusing himself with you down there right now, Randall! Goodbye…send my regards to Penny and those three guys…

Tell that train to wait for me. I was blind but now I see. Don´t let it leave without me. I was in chains but now I´m free. Do you see me, mom? Now I am happy. I´m having fun. Save a seat for me on that train to hell.


	21. Behind the curtain

**Behind the curtain**

I return to what I was doing before Randall came to annoy me and die in my apartment in the most stupid fashion. I reapply the white makeup and start painting my piece of art. I´ve painted my face a hundred times when I was Carnival, but now I´m not him anymore. This look doesn´t seem convincing any longer and I decide to modify it. I stretch down the blue triangle below my left eye, like a tear that was running from it permanently all the way down to the corner of my smile. Carnival´s paint was symmetrical and had contours, but I don´t have them. I paint a red smile that is thinner and has a higher corner on the right side, almost reaching my cheekbone. The left side is slightly fallen. I don´t have my clown nose anymore, but I don´t really need it. I paint the tip of my nose with the same red I used for the smile. I also don´t need a wig. My hair is green now, a bright green. I wet my hair and slick it back. It looks elegant. Now I only need a suit. What should I wear? Mi only suit is the red one. I used to find it opaque but now it looks bright red to me, intense like blood. I have the yellow vest I used for work and there´s a dark green shirt in the back of the closet I haven´t worn in a long time. I find a dusty box in a corner and as I open it I find a beautiful pair of brown shoes. I had completely forgotten about those. I remember buying them a long time ago, once I had a little extra money. I always thought I´d save them for a special occasion, when I was a great comedian. I didn´t know it, but I´ve been saving my best clothes for this moment. I´m not a ridiculous clown any longer, I´m a proud clown.

I trip over Randall´s body as I leave the apartment for the last time. I take the letter for Sophie from the table, kiss the paper staining it with my red lips and slide it underneath her door.

\- Goodbye, sweet Sophie… of all the things that never happened to me, you were the best.

The end of the afternoon nears. There´s no one in the elevator at this time. Outside the sun has begun to set. There´s maybe still an hour of light left. The never ending stairs that were so tortuous to walk up are surprinsingly fun to walk down. The rhythm in my veins beats again and I dance my way down those stairs. I feel light as a feather, like I have wings. I jump over the puddles, there are sparks springing from the soles of my shoes and grey pigeons fly off around me as I pass. I laugh. I truly laugh, like I´ve never laughed in my whole life. This is what freedom feels like.

Then suddenly I spot two men at the top of the stairs. Oh no, it´s those detectives.

\- Hey, Arthur! We need to talk!

I start running. So do they. I run through the streets of Gotham City, dodging people and jumping over the garbage bags scattered across every sidewalk. I quickly turn around to see them. I´m one block ahead. I´m almost at the subway station. I cross the last avenue when something strikes me. All I know is that my feet are lifted from the ground, the world is turned upside down and my sight is blurred for a moment. I realize I´ve been hit by a taxi. My body hits the windshield and I fall on the asphalt. I´m disorientated but I hear the detectives yelling close to me, I pick myself up and after quickly checking that the gun is still in my pocket I start running again towards the station. I run up three stairs at a time and manage to squeeze myself into the train just as the doors are closing. I catch my breath and notice that the train is full of clowns. They´re all wearing masks and some carry signs. Ah, that´s right. Randall mentioned a protest. Oh no! I thought I had gotten rid of them but I see the detectives entering another wagon. I push my way to the back and cross into another wagon. I´m lucky to go unnoticed amongst this multitude of clowns. It´s hard for them to spot me. But my makeup is different. I need a mask. I take the mask from one of the clowns standing next to me.

\- HEY!

The man pushes me, I dodge him and he ends up beating another guy. A fight starts from which I manage to escape but the detectives get involved in. The subway is a mess and when the doors open at the next stop, the clowns push out the officers and beat them down. Hahahaha. This is fun. For once I´m on the other end of the blade. It´s not me on the ground getting kicked. I take off the mask and throw it into a dumpster. I don´t need it anymore. I light a smoke and cross the last tunnel that separates me from the studio. Police officers run in the opposite direction, towards the chaos where you can hear screams and a single gun shot. I continue my way.

I´m all alone in the dressing room, sitting on a swivel chair. I smoke while I watch the news on a small TV. Hahahahah it seems that a policeman died. I spin the chair, taking my eyes off the news and look in the mirror. I find a makeup set on the boudoir which probably the guests use to freshen up before going on stage with Murray. I fix my own makeup and rearrange my hair. I´m nervous. I want this act to be a success, the greatest moment of my life. Here I am, in this place I imagined so many times, about to meet Murray who has been my lifelong idol, about to go out on stage and be seen by so many people on the studio and the thousands of them through the TV. This is unreal…

I pick up a red lipstick and I write Penny´s words on the mirror. A poisonous yet useful reminder for myself and for whoever will be sitting in this chair tomorrow.

**_"_****_Put on a happy face"_**

There´s a knock on the door. Oh God, it´s Murray.

\- Murray!

I quickly put off my cigarette, get up and shake his hand. He´s accompanied by an assistant but I hardly pay any attention to him.

\- Thank you, Murray! I feel like I know you…I´ve been watching you forever!

\- Thank you- says Murray - What´s with the face? Are you part of the protest?-

\- No.- I say - No, I don´t believe in any of that. I don´t believe in anything! I just thought it would be good for my act.-

\- For your act?- the assistant asks - Didn´t you hear what happened on the subway? Some clown got killed!-

\- Yes, yes.- Murray says to him - He´s aware of it.-

\- No, I haven´t- I lie.

\- You see?- the guy replies - This is what I´m telling you. The audience is gonna go crazy if you put this guy on. Maybe for a bit but not a whole segment…-

\- Easy. It´s gonna work, it´s gonna work.- Murray assures him.

\- Hahahahaha! Thank you, Murray!

\- A couple of rules, though.- warns Murray - No cursing, no off color material. We do a clean show. OK?-

\- Mhmmm.

\- Good. You´re coming out right after Dr. Sally!

\- I love Doctor Sally!

\- Good! Well, someone will come and get you, OK?

\- OK. Perfect!

\- Good luck!

\- Thanks Murray!

He turns to leave.

\- Eh, Murray…one small thing…-

\- Yeah?

\- When you bring me out, can you introduce me as Joker?

\- What´s wrong with you real name?- asks the assistant.

\- That´s what you called me on the show. A Joker. Do you remember?

\- Did I?- Murray asks, somewhat confused - Well, if you say so, Joker it is. It´s good.-

\- Thanks, Murray!

You accidentally gave me the name I was missing, the stage name I was looking for. At least you did that much for me, Murray…

I take my seat again. I grab the gun and point it at my throat once more. This is the final rehearsal.

I´m standing behind the curtain, the last barrier before the big act. You can´t see anything from here but you can hear it all that´s happening on stage. The laughter, the applause. I smoke my last cigarette before going out and I hear Murray´s voice.

_\- You gotta see our next guest for yourself. I´m pretty sure this guy could use a doctor._

Laughter.

_\- Does he have sexual problems?-_ asks Dr. Sally.

_\- Looks like he´s got a lot of problems!_

Laughter.

_\- Alright, Bobby, let´s show that clip one last time!_

I hear my own laughter. My failed act at Pogo´s. Murray´s second low blow.

Laughter.

_\- You may have seen that clip of our next guest. Now, before he comes out I just wanted to say that we´re all heartbroken about what´s going on in the city tonight. But this is how he wanted to come out and honestly I think we could all use a good laugh, so please…welcome Joker!_

Alright, Murray…my move!


	22. The joke s on you!

**The joke´s on you!**

\- _Please welcome Joker!_

The classic tune of the show beats and the colored curtains open, forming the path that finally leads me to the great stage. Time to shine! Did I mention I´m a dancer? I couldn´t do it another way, I go out on the stage dancing. I smile, flick away my last cigarette and spin around three times until I reach Murray. The audience claps enthusiastically. I shake Murray´s hand and walk towards the other two guests. This is my last chance to kiss a woman and if Doctor Sally is all there is, then so be it. I approach her and she reaches her hand out to me but I take her face in both my hands and give her one of those kisses you see only in the magazines. The crowd claps and whistles.

\- Are you alright, Doctor?- Murray asks - That was quite an entrance!-

I take a seat next to Murray and cross my legs.

I look around. Wow! This is amazing! It´s like a dream. The lights, the people, the bright colors, the noise of the crowd…so many heads, soy many eyes. People laugh. I don´t know why because I haven´t told a joke yet.

\- Are you OK?- Murray asks.

\- Yeah…this is exactly how I imagined it.

\- Well, that makes one of us!

Everyone laughs and claps. Did I say something funny? I don´t know. But wow, does it feel good to be applauded. I smile. I could have spent all my life like this. If only I had been born under a different star…

\- So, can you tell us about this look? When we spoke earlier you mentioned that this look is not a political statement. Is that right?

\- That´s right, Murray. I´m not political. I´m just trying to make people laugh.

\- And how has that gone for you?

People laugh.

\- Hahahahahaha - I fake laughing as well.

\- So, I know you´re a comedian. You´ve been working on any new material? You wanna tell us a joke?

Applause. Is that all for me? This is truly magnificent.

\- Yeah? Haha. OK.

I look at Murray while I slightly lift myself from the seat to take the notebook from my pocket.

\- He´s got a book! A book of jokes.- says Murray and moves closer , trying to catch a glimpse of the content but I cover the notebook up, shielding its secrets.

I open a random page and turn a few as if I was looking for something although I know I´m looking for nothing. The only joke I´m going to tell tonight is in my pocket and not in the notebook. But then a lonely sentence captures my attention.

**"****I just hope my death makes more cents than my life."**

Between all that mess of images and scrawl that one sentence stands out, as if it was yelling at me. My eyes get fixed on the letters. How can a bit of ink contain so much? Suddenly it´s as if the entire room had gone mute, petrified. People seem like lifeless puppets, sitting there staring at me with eyes of glass that don´t see. Somewhere I heard someone say that time is like a river. It flows at different speeds in different places. I believe I understand now what they meant, for it seems that time has come to a halt for everyone, except for me.

Just as I rehearsed it so many times, my left hand reaches down to my leg and ever so carefully my thumb slides into my pocket, finding the cold body of the gun. My skin touches hers and caresses it for a second. The time has come!

And then my hand collides with something else. A soft and silky fabric that contrasts with the hard metal next to it. It´s the blue handkerchief I put in my pocket when I was getting dressed…

There it is. I wanted to have it with me for this moment, here at the end of all things.

…

Hold on…

My hand stops.

The handkerchief is in my pocket…in my pocket… The handkerchief is in my pocket…in my pocket.

I put it there because I took it off my wrist and I couldn´t tie it to it again. I couldn´t do it. I couldn´t do it because it´s impossible to tie it with just one hand…which means…it means that I could never have tied it to my wrist by myself in the first place… someone else had to do it. Someone else did it, it wasn´t me. It wasn´t me. That night Penny was staying at the hospital…it wasn´t her. If it wasn´t me and it wasn´t Penny…then it could only have been one person, it had to be her! _Sophie. _

Sophie…you are real? Oh, Sophie! You are real! Everything was real!

My eyes get flooded with tears and I look up. I´m faced once more with the sea of faces that is the crowd. They´re like grains of sand in a vast desert.

Sophie…in that infinity of faces that make up the world, I who am just one more amongst so many others, I wasn´t invisible to you. And between the millions of souls that wander across the earth, you found me, you saw me, you chose me… You loved me…me, who no one else ever loved.

The gun feels heavier inside my pocket, as if it wanted to finally come out to the stage.

But if there is even just one person in the world who loved me…then everything was worthwhile. I can die in peace.

\- Take your time, we got all night...

Murray´s voice cuts the silence. The handles of the clock resume their pace. The earth is spinning again. Something stops my hand, an invisible force takes my fingers away from the gun. What´s going on? This is not how it was planned. Murray stares at me. Everyone stares at me. They´re waiting to hear a joke. My hand goes back to the notebook. A joke, a joke. There´s got to be something here that I can use. I turn a few pages. I stay calm even though my hands are sweating nervously.

\- Haha. OK. Here´s one: Knock, knock.

\- And you had to look that up?

Everyone laughs. But not at a joke, for I haven´t told any. They laugh at me. Murray laughs at me. This is the third time you stab me, Murray.

\- I wanted to get it right…- I say and between the mockery I start over again - Knock, knock…-

\- Who´s there?- Murray replies.

\- It´s the police, madam. Your son´s been hit by a drunk driver. He´s dead! Haha.

\- Oh no, no, no. No, you cannot joke about that!- says Doctor Sally upset.

\- Yeah, that´s not funny, Arthur. That´s not the kind of humor we do on this show.- Murray scolds me.

Oh it´s not? Well it seems to be the kind of humor that is appreciated on the streets…when my illness plagued me and made a fool of me in front of everyone, didn´t you find it funny? When they beat me down and kicked me around, didn´t you laugh? Didn´t you all laugh? Alright. If you didn´t like my joke, let me tell you something else. Maybe this seems more entertaining to you. I will reveal to you my little secret instead of taking it with me to the grave. I will tell you my story! I will bleed words and stain the walls of the studio with them. I will splash this factory of arrogant jokes and false laughter with truth and you will hear me!

\- OK, yeah, I´m sorry. It´s just, you know…it´s been a rough few weeks, Murray… ever since I… killed those three Wall Street guys.

My confession has left them speechless. I let my eyes wander across all those heads. My eyes become glassy. Not a sound can be heard anymore. There´s no more laughter or applause, only a whisper.

\- OK, I´m waiting for the punchline.- says Murray.

\- There is no punchline. It´s not a joke.

The crowd is stunned. Murray moves closer to me.

\- You´re serious, aren´t you? You´re telling us you killed those three young men on the subway?

\- Mhmmm.

\- And why should we believe you?

\- I´ve got nothing left to lose. Nothing can hurt me anymore. Hahaha. My life is nothing but a comedy!- I swallow some tears and smile.

People start booing at me.

\- Let me get this straight. You think killing those guys is funny?

\- I do.- I finally confess - And I´m tired of pretending it´s not.-

I no longer care about their reaction.

\- Comedy is subjective, Murray! Isn´t that what they say? - I say, looking the crowd directly in the eyes and I raise my voice.

\- All of you…this system that knows so much, you decide what´s right or wrong, the same way that you decide what´s funny or not.-

\- Get him off!- yells someone in the back of the hall.

\- OK, I… I think I might understand that you did this to start a movement? To become a symbol? - says Murray.

\- Come on, Murray…do I look like the kind of clown that could start a movement? I killed those guys because they were awful. Everybody is awful these days. It´s enough to make anyone crazy.

\- OK, so that´s it, you´re crazy. That´s your defense for killing three young men?

No, I´m not crazy, I´m saner than ever! It´s you who lives of fictions, Murray and the truth spits in your face! No, it´s not me who is wrong. The world is wrong! The world is wrong and this bullet is not for me …

\- No…they couldn´t carry a tune to save their lives!

The booing becomes louder. It´s OK, you can disapprove me as much as you want. Contempt is familiar to me. I´ve fed on rejection and hatred and I´ve cried many nights, but I have accepted them and I´ve made with them my shield and my stronghold! I don´t care that you laugh at me. I don´t care about anything anymore.

\- Ugh, why is everybody so upset about these guys? If it was me dying on the sidewalk, you´d walk right over me! I pass you everyday and you don´t notice me!But these guys, what? Because Thomas Wayne went crying about them on TV?!

\- You have a problem with Thomas Wayne?

\- Yes, I do! Have you seen what it´s like out there, Murray? You ever actually leave the studio? Everybody just yells and screams at each other. Nobody is civil anymore! Nobody thinks what it´s like to be the other guy. You think men like Thomas Wayne ever think what it´s like to be someone like me? To be somebody but themselves? They don´t! They think that we´ll just sit there and take it like good little boys. That we won´t werewolf and go wild!

The audience is aghast. Oh, how sorry I am to disappoint you. Did you want a party clown? Were you expecting a jester to come and entertain your Majesties with cheap tricks? You kings in suit and tie. You lords with blind eyes and deaf ears who force us to our knees and walk over us, stepping on us with your shiny shoes. The weight of this pyramid you´ve built breaks the men at the bottom and with the wheels of this horrible system you´ve created, you crush their mortal souls. And what do you expect? That we smile and put on a happy face?

\- You finished? I mean, there´s so much self pity, Arthur! You sound like you´re making excuses for killing those young men! Not everybody, and I I´ll tell you this, not everyone is awful.

\- You´re awful, Murray.

\- Me? I´m awful? Oh, yeah? How am I awful?

\- Playing my video. Inviting me on this show. You just wanted to make fun of me. You´re just like the rest of them!

\- You don´t know the first thing about me, pal. Look what happened because of what you did. What it led to. There are riots out there. Two policemen are in critical condition and you´re laughing! You´re laughing! Someone was killed today because of what you did!

Hahahahaha this is funny. It is. The joke is on you, Murray.

\- I know…- I say and take a deep breath - How about another joke, Murray?-

\- No, I think we´ve had enough of your jokes.

\- What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a society that abandons him and treats him like trash?! - my voice breaks - I´ll tell you what you get! YOU GET WHAT YOU FUCKING DESERVE!-

In the blink of an eye the gun is in my hand, my finger is on the trigger and with one single, clean shot in the head I kill Murray Franklin.

The shot rumbles. The blood stains my face and the walls. People scream and run out of the studio. I stay seated watching the spectacle. My legs shake violently. I see Murray´s body dead on the chair. I killed Murray. A tear runs from me eye.

\- Hahahahahaha.

I killed Murray and one part of me cries while the other one laughs. You killed me first, Murray. You killed me when you shattered the only dream I had in my life. You destroyed me when you mocked me. You murdered me. I only returned the favor.

I get on my feet. This gun has already fulfilled its mission and I no longer need it. I toss it on Murray´s desk, I look around at the few people still fleeing from the studio and I approach the camera that is still transmitting the program live.

\- Good night- I say to all the audience behind their TVs - And always remember, that´s life!-

Outside I´m met with a unique scene. Even though I´m handcuffed in the police car, it doesn´t keep me from appreciating the wonderful spectacle that has set in the streets of Gotham. There are fires and riots everywhere. The flames climb high into the night sky, putting the stars and arrogant lights of the city to ridicule. It´s raining but it´s not raindrops. It´s raining pieces of shattered glass from the windows of luxurious shops and it´s raining sparks from the cables in the high streetlights. The sound of chaos is the best music I´ve ever heard. It´s the screams and howls in the streets that announce the end of the false calm that reigned among the people of Gotham. I see clown faces everywhere I look. I feel their rage, their anger…and I feel their liberation. The sound it produces creates a symphony and that music creaks like metal, like the sound of chains that finally break. And even though I´m handcuffed, I feel like I´m finally free.

I laugh and laugh and laugh. If the manager of this great circus that is the world is watching us from above , I hope he is laughing now. I hope he´s enjoying this magnificent show as much as I am.

\- Hahahahahahaha!

\- Stop laughing, you freak! This isn´t funny!- says the officer who´s driving me to the police station - The whole fucking city is on fire because of what you did!-

\- I know…- I say, watching the flames in awe - Isn´t it beautiful?-

And then a blinding light hits my eyes and a strong blow darkens my sight. Everything goes black around me. Am I already dead? I feel a pair of hands carefully holding me and lifting me up. When I open my eyes again I realize I´m laying on my back. My body hurts. There´s so much noise. I hear screams. My hands are free. Someone´s removed the handcuffs. I turn my head and look around. I´m laying on the front of the police car.

\- Get up!- the voices yell - Come on, get up!-

Is it me they´re talking to? I slowly get up. The pieces of glass dig into my palms when I try to lift myself. I get on my knees and then on my feet. Who are all these people? Why are they cheering me on? They´re hundreds…no, they´re thousands! All of them look at me, they lift their arms and cheer. They see me! People see me! I exist! I exist and now I finally know it! I feel something strange, something magnificent. I feel a certain connection. I feel part of something bigger than myself. And then I finally get it, now I understand it all…

I´m one of them and all of them are me. They are my mirror, they are my echo. It´s my amplified voice, my multiplied pain, it´s the drops that form the river of blood that flows from my open veins.

I feel tears streaming down my face, but I don´t cry of pain, I cry of joy. And I smile. I smile for my audience, my true audience.

I notice the metallic flavor on my tongue. It´s my own blood. I put my fingers in my mouth and soak them in that beautiful color that wounds produce, especially those that are deep, and I paint a blood smile on my face. I open my arms and receive in them the wonderful ovation of the people. Their hands reach up to the sky, their screams fill up the night and their torches light it like fireworks. It´s like the end of a great celebration, the final note of a splendid symphony, an ode to the vindication of all the wretched of this world.

What a tragic parody. I´m a clown that laughs, hero of a world that cries.


	23. Epilogue: Sophie s diary

**Epilogue: Sophie´s diary**

**11.15.1981 **

_I´ve had this old, dusty diary for fifteen years. I never found the time and I lacked conviction to write anything down. __I guess I´ve been too busy. __The rhythm of the everyday barely allows me time to take a breath, even less to organize a thought that´d be worth writing down. But today I feel like the only comfort comes from filling these blank pages, because I´m sure no person would want to hear what I have to say. This will be the first and last thing I write, for it seems that after today everything has lost its meaning. If someone ever finds this diary and reads these words, I hope they understand them. I hope that through them they can remove the blindfold that we all have over our eyes. I hope they can see Arthur the way I see him. _

_I´d be lying if I said that Arthur caught my attention the first time he crossed my path. I had seen him many times before and yet I had never really seen him. __How often we wander around blindly through life. __It seems like our senses have grown used to boredom in such a way that we´re no longer capable of hearing all the sounds, of enjoying the smell of flowers or of distinguishing all the colors that the day has. There are souls that have a certain color and Arthur´s had a very special one. _

_It was my little daughter who made me notice that in the apartment next to ours lived a man of the most unique nature. "He´s the man who laughs, mom", said Gigi. I wondered why a simple clown would fascinate a girl her age so much. It was when I saw Gigi sneaking up to his door to bring him presents that I worried and I must admit, I had bad thoughts about it. I scolded her but she just said "I bring him presents because he´s sad". "I thought you said he was the man who laughs", I said and she simply responded "Yes, but I´ve also heard him cry …" It was then that I felt curious to meet the man and when I approached him and spoke to him for the first time, something about him captivated me. _

_He looked sad and beaten down and yet there was a sweet melody in his voice and a melancholic shine in his eyes, like a tiny spark so powerful that it could turn into a fire and at the same time so weak that it could die out at any given moment. And even though he rarely looked up, when he did, his eyes seemed like open doors into an unknown world. I knew with certainty that this man was incapable of hurting anyone. You may find it absurd, but I´m still convinced of that. _

_There are people who are beautiful in their looks, others are beautiful in the things they say and others are beautiful in the way they are…Arthur was beautiful in his very core. There was a beauty in him that was both tragic and poetic. Even though simple on the surface, Arthur was full of mysteries and contradictions. Shy by nature, he lived far from everyone and wished to be close to someone. He found it hard to stop laughing and it had always been impossible for him to really laugh. __He seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. __Never had a soul lived so far from paradise, like an angel born in hell who in spite of everything lived on because that´s what life demanded of him. _

_I´ve never seen a body that being so fragile bared so much pain, nor a soul that being so pure endured so much torment. And even though the world didn´t have a heart for him, he hadn´t let his own heart give up. All the love that society had denied to him, he didn´t deny it to anyone, and all the comfort that was missing in his own life, he gave it to others. His heart resided in the songs he sang to the children at the hospital, it lived in the shape of a blue balloon he gave to my daughter and in the shape of a paper flower that his hands made for me. _

_I held Arthur in my arms the day the world finally broke him apart completely. Never had anyone´s tears been so bitter, never had a body contained so much grief. I felt that something inside him had shattered forever and that nothing and nobody could ever put it back together. __And yet, I tried. _

_When I close my eyes , I can still feel his warmth between my arms, I feel his crying on my shirt, I hear his tortured laughter and his sobs, I still feel his breathing, I feel my lips on top of his…I still feel his heart beating underneath my hand. _

_"__Are you real, Sophie?" I chastise myself for not seeing it sooner. __I thought it was the confusion caused by the fever he had that night and I left my favorite handkerchief tied to his wrist so he knew it hadn´t been a dream. I watched him sleep for several hours until the light of dawn came in through the window. __I didn´t want to wake him. There was a certain peace in his sleep. __For a second I thought I saw his lips smile. I figured he slept happily, knowing that he was loved. _

_My heart skipped a beat when I found the letter he left under my door. There was a red colored kiss on the paper I still keep next to me. It was a farewell, the last words of a heart that was bleeding to death. It was too late when I finally understood that Arthur had stopped distinguishing between the things that were real and those that were not. He was convinced that only in a fantasy he could be loved. He told himself that being who he was, he had no right to love. _

_I ran out of the house but as son as my feet set out on the street, I realized I didn´t even know where to start looking. I went back inside crying, feeling guilty for not knowing enough about Arthur as to know where he might have gone and the helplessness of knowing that something bad would happen and there was nothing that I could do to prevent it. Those were the longest hours of my life until the city started to burn and I suddenly saw his face on every cannel. _

_I wish I had met Arthur in another space and time, in a place far away from here, beyond the rainbow, a place where the sun would shine and where the truth wasn´t sad._

_My heart breaks when I imagine him locked up in a cold room inside Arkham. Life finally tore apart his wings, for Arthur was like a beautiful crystal bird. But when crystal breaks, it can never be repaired. The same glass that was once so fragile and beautiful becomes a cutting edge weapon when it shatters._

_Everyone wonders what was wrong with him, but nobody wonders what was wrong with the people who hurt him, who beat him up for fun and mocked him every day. What was wrong with the people who should have loved him and instead abandoned him? You wonder what illness plagued Arthur to do what he did? Why don´t you ask yourselves what´s wrong with this despicable society that drove a good hearted man to the limit and pushed him into the abyss? Yes, it was Arthur´s fingers that pulled the trigger but on top of them were the fingers of all of us. Look yourselves in the mirror if you can stand the disgust and see your own hands stained with blood. _

_I don´t condemn Arthur and I understand the motives of him whom everyone know calls Joker, for I had the privilege of knowing the man behind the name. Behind the clown mask, behind his worn out clothes, his pale skin, his beautiful and sad green eyes and behind that tortured laughter there was a heart that dreamed…and who knows…maybe hasn´t stopped dreaming. _

**THE END**

**I want to thank all of you who followed this story to the end! I hope you´ve enjoyed this journey as much as I have. For the time this adventure lasted, with your likes and comments, you made me feel special. ****You made me feel like I had wings. ****I can´t ever thank you enough. My story is nothing but an adaptation and the credits belong to the mind and heart of Todd Phillips and to the wonderful performance of Joaquín Phoenix, two men I love and admire.**

**If this small tribute to Joker produced in you a feeling, an emotion or even if it made a tear be shed, then I´ve fulfilled my purpose, for I believe that stories are there to make us feel…to remind us that we are alive.**

**The end of something can or cannot be the beginning of something else. I have a second part in mind for this story. If you like the idea and want to know what becomes of Arthur and Sophie, let me know in the comment´s section and I will gladly write the sequel for all of you. **

**Thank you again for all the love!**

**Yours sincerely,**

**_Gwynplaine89_**


	24. NOTE

p data-p-id="26ded1732a4a6c634f158bf98d0b0a03"strongNOTE/strong/p  
p data-p-id="26ded1732a4a6c634f158bf98d0b0a03" /p  
p data-p-id="26ded1732a4a6c634f158bf98d0b0a03"strongWhat's been promised is duty!/strong/p  
p data-p-id="a5aea30c30cca88aead1a46244506897"strongOn my profile you can find the sequel to this story:/strong/p  
p data-p-id="b9b5d3dcbb28f2224d844bc42717a81b"strong"By order of the King"/strong/p  
p data-p-id="83ffad5a0d1b8a104b49f83415a659b3"strongI hope it lives up to your expectations!/strong/p  
p data-p-id="10b924223f251d5e5912ca68b49712ce"strongThank you all 💕 ️💜/strong/p 


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